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TOWARD THE SUN 



A. MC G. BEEDE, PH. D. 



3 fVith COMMENTARY NOTES by I 

MELVIN R. GILMORE, Ph. D., 
Curator of North Dakota Historical 
Museum. 



TRIBUNE COMPANY 
1916 



DOO( 






COPYRIGHT 



JAN 22 I9i7 



^1 



^CI,A4r>3743 



C\ 



PUBLISHERS NOTICE 

A. McG. Beede is well known through his 
"Sitting Bull-Guster," "Heart-in-the-Lodge," and 
other works. 

The present volume of poems, "Toward the 
Sun," with notes in an appendix by Melvin R. 
Gilmore, Ph. D., Curator of the North Dakota 
Historical Museum, cannot fail to be pleasing 
and interesting. It is typical of Dr. Beede's frank 
and trenchant thought in poetry, which is so 
natural that it sings itself. 

The book has unusual variety. The casual 
reader might call it "just poetry." But at heart 
it is an X-ray examination of civilization by Dr. 
Beede and his friends, the Indians. 



AUTHOR'S PREFACE 

It is difficult to say how much of this book is "original." 
On the extreme frontier with Indians in boyhood, and later 
living intimately with Indians for many years, I have bor- 
rowed unconsciously from Indians and from frontiersmen. 
Credit is given for what is consciously borrowed — a con- 
siderable part. An old frontiersmen once said to me: "In- 
dians influence whitemen's ideas as much as whitemen in- 
fluence Indians' ideas." This is true. And this influence of 
Indians upon whitemen has been continuous, from the far 
East out along. There should be a well-written book entitled 
"Our Borrowment from Indians." 

How much of our distinctive "American Characteristics" 
is due to the influence of Indians? 

Numerals opposite titles refer to notes by M. R. Gilmore, 
Ph. D., in an appendix. Doctor Gilmore's intimate living 
with Indians, and his studies as curator of the Nebraska His- 
torical Museum, qualify him for writing the notes which 
he has kindly consented to write. 

An old Indian (Sakanaku Skonk), in the Turtle Moun- 
tains), on seeing himself in "the whiteman's looking glass," 
said: "I wonder if I look to Great Spirit as I look in the 
white man's looking glass?" Misleading things he found 
in "the whiteman's world," (unlike what he found in Nature), 
made him distrust "the whiteman's looking glass." 

If we are to save the good things in "the whiteman's 
world" it is time to put away "small talk," and ask seriously 
what lessons we may learn from primitive peoples. We talk 
about living in harmony with Nature. We had in America 
a people who were really living in harmony with Nature — 
at least largely so — before we destroyed them. Quotations 
not otherwise specified are Indian. 



TOWARD THE SUN 



IN THE DAY WHEN YOU'LL BE A BRIDE- 
GROOM 
A "white-livered" pale girl 

Fed on city canned goods 
Or a girl in the country 

Whose cheeks are in bloom; 
A pale flower ne'er to blossom, 

Half dead in the woods, 
Or a flower that is gleeful 
With sunshine and room — 
Which'll you have in the day when you'll be 
the bridegroom? 

Two good breasts for a babe. 

Or scant breasts and no zeal; 
Mother's milk for the babe, 

Or the babe for the tomb; 
Love pell-mell from the start 

Or divorce-suit and de'il; 
Now the one knows crochetting, 

The other a broom — 
Which'll you have in the day when you'll be 
the bridegroom? 

Which'll you have; don't be hasty, 

Remember the road 
Of your choosing will lead you 

Through sunshine or shade; 



10 TOWARD THE SUN 

And as Indians have told me, 

"No medicine toad 
Can give sense to a stripling 
Or breasts to a maid." 
Which'll you have in the day when you'll be 
the bridegroom? 



Strange no philosopher has mentioned as the 
greatest wonder of the world, more than the 
whole of the "seven wonders of the world," a 
city which is so wholesome that it does not 
degenerate and destroy its people. And nearly 
as wonderful as this would be a civilization that 
was sane and sound so that it would not be- 
come self-destroying. 



TOWARD THE SUN ii 



BLINKING TOWARD THE SUN 

(Note. — In a coulee north of the upper Missouri river, 
I saw an old wolf who had crawled up on a rock to die. 
Losing his teeth in early summer he had become lean and 
lank. Now he was dying on a rock in the sunshine. Old 
wolves often die in this way. Drawing near I stroked the 
fur on his head, and he appreciated it. His death seemed 
quite human. When he was dead I buried him, using a flat 
stone for a spade, and by his grave I erected a slab, whit- 
tled from a bush, and marked: ^ '^ 

b 

Wolf— Died penitent October 9, 191^; 
Buried by his brother, A. McG. Beede. 

Then I composed the following poem.) 



When the sunny clock, the God-made clock, 

Compassionately ticks "tick-tock" 

For me to die, I want to mock 

At fear, and crawl out on a rock. 

As a wolf does when his race is run, 

As a wolf does when his deeds are done, 

As a wolf dies blinking toward the Sun. 

An old wolf dies full reverently, 
I've seen him blinking patiently, 
Awaiting his last destiny. 
As if 'twere some sweet mystery; 
He was blinking in the sunny air, 
To the Sun his dying will and prayer, 
He was dying calmly on the square. 



12 TOWARD THE SUN 

Then why should I, his brother, squirm 
At the sunny portals which we term 
"The gate of death," the splendid germ 
Of constant life? Is man less firm 
Than all Nature is? My life begun, 
With the merits I have missed or won, 
Is a spirit blinking toward the Sun. 



A whiteman who inclines to corral what oth- 
ers produce is sometimes called "Tame Wolf" 
by Indians. An Indian said to me : "The differ- 
ence between a true wild wolf and 'Tame Wolf 
is this: wild wolf does not leave any property 
to be divided among relatives when he dies. 
Tame Wolf is anxious to do this more than he is 
desirous for anything else." 



TOWARD THE SUN 13 

THE OLD WOLF'S SONG (1) 

(Indian) 

"An old man out on a hill praying, saw a tribe 
of wolves gliding across the prairie to the Mis- 
souri river. All of the wolves swam across the 
river except one who was too old to swim any 
more. When the other wolves had disappeared 
in the distance across the river, the old wolf sat 
on the bank of the river and sang with a man's 



THE SONG 

All o'er the earth I've roamed, 
I've journeyed far and wide; 
My spirit haste and go, 
I'm nothing, nothing now, 
I'm nothing, nothing now." 

"Missouri river flow. 
Thou sacred water flow; 
My spirit haste and go, 
I'm nothing, nothing now, 
I'm nothing, nothing now." 

"Then the old wolf went away onto a hill and 
crawled up onto a rock in the sunshine, and his 
spirit went away. And that is why a man, when 



14 TOWARD THE SUN 

he is old and nearly ready to die, sings this song 
which the old wolf sang:" 

THE ORIGINAL OF THE SONG 

"Ma-ka ta-ko-mni 
Te-han o-ma-wa-ni; 
Mi-na-gi ya ya yo, 
Wa-na ma-ta-ku-ni, 
Wa-na ma-ta-ku-ni." 

"Mni-sho-she ya yo 
Mni wa-kan ya yo; 
Mi-na-gi ya ya yo, 
Wa-na ma-ta-ku-ni, 
Wa-na ma-ta-ku-ni. 
0-he-he-he!" 



Old Indians dearly love sweet and bitter. 

The taste of sour they cannot endure. 
"Hark to the sound of the wings, 
The sound of the wings flying o'er; 
In the morning the valiant wings, 
In the evening the restful wings." 
(Indian) 



TOWARD THE SUN 15 

THE PREACHER 

He seemed to be an educated 

scholar in Greek, 
But do the level best he could do, 

mightily or meek, 
I'd sooner hear the old Red River 

wooden cartwheels squeak. 

What is it somehow makes the preaching 

seem all amiss, 
Without the tone of Nature's anger 

or Nature's bliss. 
With neither Nature's thunder'n lightning 

or Nature's kiss? 

A natural fiddler's natural fiddling gives 

exhilaration, 
A million startling tones in Nature 

give us soul-elation, 
And Nature's faces looking at us 

give us inspiration. 

God, why can't a holy preacher 

pray holy prayers. 
Aware himself of friends departed 

and vacant chairs. 

Aware of human fear and hoping 

and human cares? 



i6 TOWARD THE SUN 

We long to have religion's comfort, 

sermon or mass, 
For oft we see and feel things darkly, 

"as through a glass." 
And through Life's darkness, let us own it, 

we want to pass. 



"Arise with the Dawn, 

Bathe in the morning Sun, 

Sleep when the birds no longer fly. 

Awake when the first faint Dawn appears." 

(Indian) 
Note 3 



TOWARD THE SUN 17 

THE MAN-ALIVE 

The man-alive demands no goal towards which 

to strive, 
Desires no glittering mountain-peak of lonely 

fame 
And amber-cloudbuilt sweet repose toward 

which to aim. 
His better goal is this, to be a man-alive. 

A man-alive right here today, in work and play, 
A man among his fellow men, full heart, full 

soul, 
A real Christian with no fads, or idol goal. 
Why simply just a man-alive, today, for aye. 

Then here's to you, the Man- Alive, my first-born 

brother, 
So full of olden Life divine, and daydawn cheer 
That you don't need a bottle of Milwaukee beer. 
To Life divine, my Brother, Sister, Father, 

Mother. 



People will endure most any form of govern- 
ment as long as they think it gives them free- 
dom. 



i8 TOWARD THE SUN 



ADIEU 

(Written on reading the oath required of the militia in 
order to be "mustered in." An English publicist said 
some years ago that Capitalism would make its last great 
struggle for supremacy in America.) 



Adieu, Democracy, adieu. 
Farewell till Day dawn comes again; 
We love you and we grieve for you 
And for the treading down of men. 

Farewell, Democracy, thou'rt gone; 
The greedy few have damned the whole. 
The wolves have eaten up the fawn 
Ere wisdom gave it strength of soul. 

Gone are the heroes of the past 
Who died for honest liberty. 
Today the wolves are clutching fast 
America in infamy. 

Arise, your country calls, be calm; 
Be brave amid the coming storm; 
Be bold, but let no ''witches charm" 
Your olden tested faith deform. 

(Quotations are Indian) 



TOWARD THE SUN 19 

THE NIGHTINGALE TARRIES 

"The Daydawn's lover is Shadowman. He 
wanders everywhere pleading to see the Sun. 
But go where he may and turn whither he will, 
some object always gets between him and the 
Sun. Sometime he will marry the Day dawn, 
and with her climb up to the Sun, and disap- 
pear. Thus far, whenever he asks the Daydawn 
to marry him she laughs and hastes away. His 
one and only passionate longing is to wed the 
Daydawn, and with her climb to the Sun and 
disappear. When this happens sorrow will pass 
away from the earth. The nightingale is for- 
ever singing of the coming wedding between 
Shadowman and the Daydawn." 

"Let us hope in our crying. 
The Nightingale tarries 

And he'll sing till the Daydawn 
Her true lover marries." 

If false culture begins with 

Denial of Nature, 
'Twill of course make a tribesman 

A fib-fabricator. 



20 TOWARD THE SUN 

If t leaps outward, not inward, 

And blends with live Nature 
'Twill of course fill a nation 

With ardor and rapture, 
If't becomes by succeeding 

Eclat optimistic, 
'Twill of course make a people 

Unduly bombastic. 
Painful shadows, ah, pity! 

Give heartaches and sorrow; 
Yet the Nightingale tarries. 

Let's hope till tomorrow. 

"Let us hope in our crying, 
The Nightingale tarries, 

And he'll sing till the Daydawn 
Her true lover marries." 



There are only two ways to really live. One 
is to live in a tent or shack and eat mostly what 
one raises himself. The other is to live on an 
estate with a retinue of servants. A man may 
exist in a hotel, but there is no such thing as 
living in a hotel. 



TOWARD THE SUN 21 

LEAPYEAR LUCK 

"Like the first of the sunshine I love you," she 

wrote, 
''And I whisper, I must say it, do you love me? 
My own heart says you don't, so I'll float in my 

boat 
On the wild Androscoggin way out to the sea." 

"I have heard a strange song in the wild water's 

lore. 
That the heart of a river can't marry the sun; 
So I'm gone to the ocean, you'll see me no more, 
For your heart is a river. Farewell, it is done." 

Ah, how little she knew it, pure maid by the 

stream, 
That a stripling's pure conscience must hamper 

his love. 
For the heart of a maiden lives mostly in dream 
And in dreamland the conscience don't tamper 

with love. 
Ah, how little he knew it, poor "bookworm" so 

meek. 
That if once he would dream by the water with 

her 
His own conscience would give her a kiss on her 

cheek. 
Was it destined to be? That's a mystery. Sir. 



22 TOWARD THE SUN 

The long winters have taught me from what I 

have seen 
That a stripling has conscience, a man hates a 

lie, 
But the male sense of loving is scrawny and 

lean 
Till the female inspires it with love in the eye. 

And a maid's scrawny conscience is lost in the 

fire 
Of compulsory love which can't wait for a day. 
Is the conscience Life's soul, or is virgin desire 
By compulsion Life's soul with its fate day by 

day? 

If a maid loves a stripling with passion forlorn 
And he yields her his all, saving scarcely his 

soul. 
Will the stripling regret it when leapyears are 

gone? 
Ah, the conscience can eat in the heart like a 

coal. 

The pure maiden has gone to the great runeful 

sea, 
An old trapper turns gray by his campfire 

agleam. 



TOWARD THE SUN 23 



And he loves her, she loves him, but love was 

not free. 
Was his conscience delusion, her passion a 

dream? 



"Indians learned language from the sounds in 
nature and from the voices of animals, and so 
their language is musical. Whitemen learned 
language from the sounds that wheels in mach- 
inery make, so their language is harsh." 
(Indian) 



24 TOWARD THE SUN 

THE SONG OF THE CRICKET 

(Indian) 

The cricket is singing 

I'm here in the tent. 
And I'm singing to tell you 

The smiimer's far spent, 
To remind you the autumntide 

Days are at hand; 
Sunny days made for singing 

You must understand. 
Sunny days, careless days, 

Happy days, autumn days; 
Sunny days made for singing 

All over the land. 
Sing with me and my people, 

Sing, happily sing. 

Note. — Indians call the cricket "ti-o-sdon-ya," which means 
he-understands-things-in-the-tent, or he is a participant in the 
tent. They associate together the cricket and the tumblebug, 
which they call by a humorous and offensive name (unkce- 
pa-kmi-ya). Yet they know and appreciate the wisdom of 
the tumblebug more than whitemen understand it (unless 
perhaps Mark Twain, with his great habits of exact obser- 
vation, who did not hesitate to picture the tumblebug as a 
superior scientist). But while the cricket appealed to the 
Indians in such a way as to invite song and poetry, the tum- 
blebug did not. Indians say "Autumn is the happy time 
(wowiyuskinanpetu), for men and animals. It is not too 



TOWARD THE SUN 25 

hot or too cold. There is food for all, more than in spring- 
time. The sunshine is soft and gentle. Nobody can be un- 
happy in autumntime." 

Indians have a song which begins : 

The cricket is singing, 

Oh listen, oh hark; 
In autumn the cricket, 

In springtime the duck. 



"Do not teach children the exact words of 
a story until they so love the story that they 
tease for the exact words to help them remem- 
ber the story." (Indian.) 



26 TOWARD THE SUN 

GRAVEYARDS AND HOMES 
Married-life is like a graveyard; those inside 

cannot get out, 
And those outside, as long's they're quite well 
satisfied. 

Don't want f get in. 

Then why prudential, caution-labelled laws 

to keep folks out or in 
Since both these olden institutions have 

a natural discipline? 

There's olden love, much more than pain, in 
homes 

while they're not starved or pampered, 
In graveyards there's triumphant hope and faith 

while olden faith's unhampered. 

Since faith is in all races, places, ages, 

w^hy become a tinker 
Of ne'er-begotten, ill-bethoughten creeds 

and call yourself ''a thinker?" 

*Tf he courts her from spring till fall, then 
quits her, 

saying : T don't like her,' " 
Old Indians say, "he is not-man." Frontiers- 
men say: 

"He is a piker." 



TOWARD THE SUN 27 



We rarely meet the "piker" and the ''not-man" 

out on Life's frontier; 
They seem more common where prudential 
thinking 

thinks Lifes out o' geer. 

My home is where I like to be when th' pulse 
beats low and th' day is rainy. 

I can't quite say what home might be to me 
if I was what's called "brainey." 

But I daresay, some fair or rainy day 
when m' Life-tides all are low, 

And larger Life-tides in strong Nature call me, 
I shall want to go. 

For when it's time C'tohan iyehantu"), 

and Indians have to go, 
I've noticed how, sustained by faith and hope, 

they always want to go. 

Too often when the whiteman's fainting heart- 
tides are all slow and low, 

His idols make him fear he can't find-out 
the place where spirits go. 

How large the soul of man becomes by roaming 

'neath the boundless dome; 
How tender 't grows and strong by worshipping 

the graveyard and the home. 



28 TOWARD THE SUN 

FREAK STATUTES 
The democratic people made the healthy Comi- 
mon Law, 
It grew as mighty treetops grow in fair and 
frosty weather. 
But modern statutes, with full many a fickle 
law and flaw, 
Forget the Life-tide rudiments by which men 
live together. 
They neither scan the sunny mountain-peaks of 
olden fame. 
Nor keenly ken the hither principles of strong 
renoun. 
Nor calmly weigh contingencies which oft do 
maim and lame 
The balanced poise of living justice till the 
judges frown. 
And oft what's called "progressive legislation" 
runs amuck. 
And clumsily becomes a tangling web of ill- 
made freaks, 
Confiding more in 'Simon says thumbs up," 
and hoped-for luck 
Than tried and tested principles in which 
calm justice speaks. 
Yet freaks do pass away while Life has bal- 
anced discipline, 



TOWARD THE SUN 29 

And there are often mnemographic records 

Life has made 
To guide and guard unborn posterity; and it is 

sin 
To yield the people's Common Law to statutes 

made by trade. 



"The whiteman's government is like a spool 

of thread with no needle to be found for using 

the thread till you unwind the whole thread and 

find a needle hidden away on the far end of it." 

(Indian) 



30 TOWARD THE SUN 



TWO HOUSES 

To a house o' brick I chanced to come, 
The man was like that horn-ed "critter' 

Who paws the earth and roars some 
Because his disposition's bitter. 

To a shack o' sod I chanced to come, 
The man was civil and polite; 

He did not say I was a "bum," 
Or act as if he'd like to bite. 

It's curious how a house o' brick 
Can make a fellow like *'Auld Nick," 

And how a simple shack o' sod 
Can make a fellow kind like God. 



When a man is young he goes to others; 
when he is old, others come to him. (Indian.) 



TOWARD THE SUN 31 

THE GIVEAWAY-DANCE SONG 

(Indian) 

(Indians have a dance called "The Giveaway Dance," in 
which each participant gives away all he has. This dance 
is necessarily forbidden by the Government now that In- 
dians are in a type of "civilization" which is not communal 
at basis. In a tribal, communal "civilization," giving away 
property simply passes it into the hands of other people in 
the community, while the community sees to it that no one 
suffers from destitution. The following song is said to be 
the meaning of the music at the "Giveaway Dance." The 
idea is that all one has belongs religiously to the community; 
and that the recognition of this fact is the condition of 
realizing Life-blessings. Life is supposed to sing this song:) 

"If you'll give me the whole of your treasure 
I will give you the whole of my heart, 

If you'll give me one half of your treasure 
I will give you one half of my heart. 

And remember Life's heart in half-measure 
Is one half of Life's heart without soul. 

Aye, it's Life and Life's heart in full measure^ 
Or it's nothing at all of Life's soul. 

All you have, howe'er small, wins Life-pleasure, 
Half you have, howe'er large, wins no goal; 

For it's wholeness for wholeness, and pleasure; 
Or it's halfness of heart, and no soul." , 



2,2 TOWARD THE SUN 

THE STRANGE LADY 

Have you seen a strange Lady go by 
In a gown like the day dawning sky; 
And her eyes like the soul in the dew; 
Was she smiling or frowning on you? 

Here she comes and she looks like a flower. 
All her Life is miraculous power. 
And she smiles going by with her load, 
If you love her, get out o' her road. 

I'm acquainted with her and I love her; 

If the tiniest feather above her 

Did but touch her m' Lady might wake. 

And for weeping her strong heart would break. 

She is beautiful when she's asleep, 

If you waken her. Oh, she will weep! 

She's miraculous, don't you believe? 

If you doubt it her strong heart will grieve. 

She is moving, get out o' her road: 
See her smile going by with her load. 
And she kisses me once in a while. 
But I know she will wake if I smile. 



TOWARD THE SUN 33 

Long ago she was going to town, 
With the dawdawn and dew for her gown, 
And the townspeople gave her a frown; 
'Twas bad luck, for their town tumbled down. 

If they'd only get out o' the town 
'T would be better than staying to frown: 
For m' Lady must carry Life's load. 
If you love her, get out o' her road. 

She's kind-hearted as long's she's asleep, 
If she wakens the whole earth will weep : 
And she journeys in earth and the sky, 
When she wakens — all people will die. 



The Sioux Indian form of an oath is: "Thou 
daytime-Sun, who passest over beholding all 
things day by day, bear witness that what I say 
is true." 



34 TOWARD THE SUN 

SHE WENT TO SEE THE BOSTONESE 

I see her as she used to stroll 
About her garden, reverent soul; 
And what she ate nobody knew, 
Unless she ate what simply grew. 

Nobody knew if she had meat. 
Nobody knew if she had sweet; 
She drank no tea, she knew not wine, 
She said : "Pure water is divine." 

She never begged from anyone. 
Some said she lived on Light and Sun. 

Her hair becDme as white as snow. 

And had a cleanly, healthy glow. 

Her blue eyes seemed like living Right 

Unconscious of the power of might. 

No fads, but just a Christian true 

Who read her Bible through and through. 

No vanity or legerdemain, 

Just healthy life, clean heart, clear brain. 

Her whole face had a daydawn gleam, 

Unlike a witchs half-born dream. 

Young couples with fond love aflame 
Oft to her little cottage came, 



TOWARD THE SUN 35 

And married couples in a feud, 
To learn what destiny was hued. 
No recompense was asked or given 
For this entuneing light from Heaven. 
She looked, she saw, she simply spoke. 
While no one wishing it could cloak 
Dissembling from her kindly eye. 
Some youths from college came to try 
With her good aid to know the trade 
Or art for which they had been made. 
No dregs in teacups, ifs or ands. 
No reading lifelines in the hands, 
Her simple answers came clear-cut 
Without a quibbling if or but. 
And she lived on when she was old, 
In summer heat and winter cold. 

Her walking-staff, cut from a tree. 
Was Nature's sweet simplicity. 
Though agile, yet she seemed so frail 
That one might fear a little gale 
Would blow her out. Her fingers grew 
Some thinner, till the light shone through. 
Her dress of 'print" she always wore 
Was sweet and clean as flower-song lore. 
And all she wore was neat and clean 
Like her own self and soul and mien. 



36 TOWARD THE SUN 

She went to see the Bostonese, 
Where lived a lady called her niece, 
And coming back was heard to tell 
It seemed like getting back from hell. 

When years had gone, returning there, 
I went to see her, unaware 
She'd gone; I knocked, no answer came. 
Except that sound no voice can name 
When there is knocking at the door 
And in the house no tenant more. 
A neighbor said: "Aunt Dolly's dead. 
She never even tuck 'er bed; 
And she wan't noway sick or ill. 
Seems like I see her living still. 
She was so good from first to last. 
She jost sot down and breatht 'er last. 



"Love among neighbors is easier when there 
is a plenty of room and not too many people in 
a neighborhood." (Indian.) 



TOWARD THE SUN 37 

WAR OR WOMEN, WHIGH'LL YOU HAVE? 

"It's war keeps women's wisdom down 
And the menfolks up above them, 
When war is o'er they build a town (wakeya) 
And the docile menfolks love them." 



It's war or women, which'll you have, 
Life a runeful sea of cripples, 
And the menfolks kings, or women queens 
And the men Life's gleeful ripples? 

A woman can raise more o' hell 
For a flirting lady teacher 
Than man or devil wants to raise 
For a tardy, worn out preacher. 

For man or de'il against a woman 
Has a true sense of humor. 
But a woman Jlgainst a fellow- woman 
Wants the whole world to doom her. 

There's reason in her awkward pleading. 
Don't think the whole world can crush her; 
Life's heart is in her maddened speaking, 
Don't think a bouquet will hush her. 



38 TOWARD THE SUN 

Don't tell me "woman is a devil," 
For it shows you do not know her; 
*'She's Mother of Life's human tree, 
She's a Life-philosopher (wiconi-iksapewin) 

It's war or women, which'll you have 
Life a runeful sea of cripples. 
And menfolks kings, or women queens. 
And the men Life's gleeful ripples? 



We need to leave off trying to citify the coun- 
try and try to countrify the cities. 



TOWARD THE SUN 39 



UNKIGLUHAPI ANPETU (2) 
(Freedom-day. Indian 4th of July) 

At dawn ecstatic tomtom-beats 

Arouse the tribesmen, for today 

Is "Freedom-day," they say, each greets 

His gleeful neighbor with the gay 

"Wa-na unk-i-glu-ha-pi chay, 

E-ha-na e i-ye-ce-ca," 

(We're free, free men we are today, 

As in the dear old days so far.") 

No whiteman's laws today, they think. 

Once more they breathe sweet freedom's breath 

And say: "Today no man shall drink 

The whiteman's whiskey, full of death." 

I hear old women glorify 

The olden days of womanhood. 

The "blessed moons so long ago 

When people had good clothes and food." 

If they could have the land as 'twas 

Before we gave them "culture's gem" 

And Christian reservation laws 

They'd take it, everyone of them. 

Among the sports a maiden rides 

A goodly steed, she's Charity. 

She flings away her dimes, and prides 

Herself in liberality. 



40 TOWARD THE SUN 

They say: "A man is truly great, 

Not for his wealth or eloquence, 

But for his service to the state (oyate). 

Without a thought of recompense." 

Ah, it is freedom, pure and clean 

Which every human being craves, 

But it is scrawney now and lean. 

The state is gone and men are slaves. 

"Amer'cans" want nice tidbit honey, 

They know not wisdom's bitterness. 

The Indian rowing in his diney 

Knew more than they, with "hit-or-miss." 

"Amer'can" over-lordly pride 

Has crushed full many a native gem 

That might have glittered far and wide 

More precious than a diadem. 



"There comes to everything a day when it is 
attacked by all its enemies at once." (Indian.) 



TOWARD THE SUN 41 

DON'T HURRY ME 

"If you won't hurry me," said a sailor one day, 
I will work for you better and cheaper." 
If you hurry the distaff it breaks the Life-thread 
Which the weaving would make a Life-web — 
It is suicide! 

I must rush for the train. 

Oh, my bath! I will take it in Bismarck, 

Where the water's too thin for a harrow or plow 

And too thick for a Christian to bathe in. 

Oh-no-no! No, McKenzie's put in water-mains 

And the water's all right for a Christian; 

But they want water free, and they say it costs 

high. 
Though it suits them to drink or to bathe in. 

Come with me and I'll show you a buffalo-bull 
With a pack of gray-wolves barking around 

him; 
They must bring the bull down, for it makes 

gray-wolves frown 
To see eyes in a bull up above them. 



42 TOWARD THE SUN 

So it's up and it's down and it's hurry and 

frown, 
But it makes a great "civilization"; 
If it makes people mad, if it makes people glad, 
All the same, it is "civilization!" 
In its delirium! 

My old hat. Oh, it's gone, 
Like a hat that you reach for in dreaming. 
If they see me in town with no hat on hy head 
They will say that I look like a Teton. 

If I poach beaverskins, sew them into a coat, 
And a deerskin to make me new breeches, 
'Twill be hard on the beavers and hard on the 

deer. 
But it makes me an up-to-date Christian — 
In my outerness! 

Dinner! Don't mind about that. 
**01d frontiersmen oft fasted — and lasted, 
Yes, they lived just as long ts the next ones. 
But the tin cans have come, and the fasting must 

go. 
Though a fast is all right for a Christian. 



TOWARD THE SUN 43 



When the town's in a hurry and nerves are 

a-twitch 
It is hard to keep people from dying, 
When it's poker and "margins," be quick and 

get rich, 
It is hard to keep people from lieing." 

But the towns make it better and gayer, they 

say. 
Than it was when the Tetons were dreaming. 

Come away; I will show you where cactus 

plants bloom, 
And the juice of the plant is delicious; 
I will show you tall buttes reaching up, oh, so 

high. 
In the desert where Life is and Love is; 
I will show you a butte where the yucca plants 

grow 
As they grew when the Tetons were dreaming. 
But you must hold your tongue and not tell 

where it is. 
For the school-ma'ams would climb it and claim 

it. 
By discovery! 



44 TOWARD THE SUN 

My ink spilt all over my hands! 
It's the hurry-up-quick and be rushing! 
It makes living too short and makes dying too 

long 
When the world's getting quicker than Life is. 
Oh, the nights are so bright and the moonlight 

so gay 
In the desert where Life is and God is. 
If a murderer went to the desert to live 
He would love God and live like a Christian. 

Now the cities have come, and religion must go, 

For religion can't live in a city. 

If a virgin should go to the city to live 

They would call her a liar or fool. 

If it makes people glad, if it makes people sad. 

All the same it is ''civilization!'" 

Not theTetons! 

Oh look! See their tents by the streams, 

"In the land of the evening mirage!" 

It's a land that the Tetons behold in their 

dreams, 
"The good land where the rainbow is large." 
And it's pleasing! 



TOWARD THE SUN 45 

My shoes, Oh I lent them, they're gone! 
An old Teton went by — he was going to town, 
And I lent him my shoes like a Christian. 

Shall I give up Life's joy, let Christianity go? 
Shall I cease to befriend the old Teton! 
Shall I hurry-plunge-in, be-quick-and-get-rich 
By corralling what other men culture. 
So my wife can have "civilization?" 
The dilemma! 

To-oo-t, there she goes, let her t-oo-t! 

I'm a fool if 1 think she will pray. 

She must t-oo-t and go rushing for Bismarck! 

In the plainlands of Shina they builded a town, 

A tall tower to reach up to Heaven; 

And the Life-God destroyed it. No folklore tells 

us 
How persistently Life in the people. 
In the ages departed, has tried to build towns. 
And has buried with billows the ruins. 
Lest the whole earth becoming a grim charnel- 
house. 
Might discourage the people from living. 
And the thing can't be done till tent-circles are 
large 



46 TOWARD THE SUN 

As the circle of Life is and Love is. 
Not more brains, but Heart! 

The good Bishop will scold me, 
He wrote me to meet him in Bismarck, 
Said the Church must wake up, get alive to the 

times, 
Be a part of our "civilization!" 
And its delirium! 

Now, I wonder 'f the Church 
Shouldn't reduce the delirium! 
And direct wicked men's hearts to Life, if it can ! 

Shall't plunge in and be part of the swirl? 

E'en if there were no creed and no Bible, there's 
Life, 

Which is deeper than all the world's strife, 

And is higher than the tip-top of Babel's high 
tower. 

Holy Life in each dewdrop and flower. 

And a mass fitly sung from the heart has God- 
power 

To help men from delirium. 



TOWARD THE SUN 47 

When delirium comes it is madness in dreams, 

Yet good Bishops, perhaps, can reduce it 

If o'er Life's runeful sea their cahn light sends 

a gleam 
'Mid the errors untold that produce it. 

How the starving man lives is a constant sur- 
prise. 

Every dog lives some way till he dies. 

How the stuffed man survives is the greater 
surprise. 

Every dog lives some way till he dies. 

Sacred Life is surprise! 

I will go to the pool 
Where the meadowlarks sing by the pool, 
I will bathe in the pool where the turtledoves 

coo, 
'T would be wicked to hurry their cooing. 
And if you will not hurry Creation too much 
She will work for you better and cheaper. 
When a ''civilization" gets bigger than Life 
And gets wiser than Nature and Life is. 
It is tossed to one side like a chip on a wave, 
It goes down and its cities are buried. 



48 TOWARD THE SUN 

WHITE AND RED 

(Quotations are Indian) 
'Tf a white woman wishes to know when the 
moon will be full 
she looks at a page in the almanac. 
If a Red woman wishes to know when the moon 
will be full 
she looks at the face of the sky. 
When the moon becomes full a Red woman 
knows it is full, 
For she sees the full moon in the sky. 
A white woman knows when the moon be- 
comes full, 
for the almanac says it is full. 
A Red woman's eyes love to look at the moon; 
A white woman's eyes are afraid of the moon." 
"If a white brother wishes to know what's the 
worth of a hide 
He looks in a book for the price it will 
bring. 
If a Red brother wishes to know what's the 
worth of a hide 
He thinks of the comfort 'twill bring." 
"If a Red brother's rich it's his pleasure to feed 

every brother who's passing his way; 
If a white brother's rich it's his pleasure to keep 
All the wealth that he has till he dies." 



TOWARD THE SUN 49 

'The Red brothers' ways would be bad for white 
men, 
for they couldn't find out how to use them. 
The Red brothers learned from wise animals, 
and the best things they learned from Great 
Spirit. 
The white brothers killed the wise animals, 
then they learned by instructing them- 
selves." 



50 TOWARD THE SUN 

SO HARD 

So hard the world is, yet a man must live; 
For he's immortal and he cannot give 
Himself to nothingness, so he must fight 
Be't day or night, in weakness or in might. 

The more the fight, the more becomes the light. 
While valiant lighting brings still more of might, 
And so it must turn out that might is right. 
Confess it now, that's ''civilization's" plight. 

I cannot think the vastest worlds are more 
Than one slow moving atom on the shore 
Of the incarnate sea of God and Life 
Forever tossing, day and night, with strife. 

And might alone in man or God is sin, 

So what we need's a better discipline; 

For we're the selfsame devils we have been 

Whatev'er we lose, whate'er we try to win. 

Yet since there's pain there's hope in Life's long 

dream. 
If man will bravely greet the pain between 
The twin born cruel millstones, light and might; 
And might is right, while light is man-made 

light. 



TOWARD THE SUN 51 

A BUILDER'S VISION 

A builder's vision, or a view 
"Clairvoyant;" hearts of all things true. 
Life-faces all forever new, 
Tho' fondly reckoned moons are few, 
And friendly faces pass like dew. 

Life's temple full of pictures, trees 

And men and women, birds and flowers. 

And friendly faces, all did please 

So tenderly I wept for joy: 

Then checked the weeping by degrees. 

Then countless living pictures came. 

And one in all and all in one. 

Together made a Hall of Fame; 

Its beautiful simplicity 

Revealed a world of Pride and Shame. 

One picture said, and laughed with glee, 
"A beggar painted me," I, *'Who?" 
The picture said: 'Draw near and see, 
You painted me ere you were born, 
I'm part of you, and you of me." 



52 TOWARD THE SUN 

We're beggars all, yet ere we came, 
And while we cross Life's runeful sea. 
We truly build Life's Hall of Fame; 
Its beautiful simplicity 
Rebukes the world of Pride and Shame. 



An "efficiency" is not as good as a man. 



TOWARD THE SUN 53 

COOKING FOR THE PEDDLER 
It was snowing and cold the last of autumn 
In the Turtle Mountains in North Dakota. 
We'd helped Loraine "mud-up" his new log 

barn 
To keep the cows, the friends of people, warm. 

Cows' faces, coming, change the first frontier. 
Then wives and children come and all is change. 
And something dear in the frontier is gone — 
More pleasing pleasantness, more painful pain. 

Next to wives and children, more than churches, 
Cows' faces are the olden oracle 
Which makes and mends the whiteman's civi- 
lization. 
So neighbors helped Loraine "mud-up" his barn 
To keep the cows, the cattle people, warm. 

A weary Jew pack-peddler came along. 
A Jew must have a shelter from the storm 
When wolves are out, and bears are in their 

dens. 
And night is dreadful in the mountain glens. 
Loraine could hardly give the peddler shelter, 
His small log house was for his wife and chil- 
dren 



54 TOWARD THE SUN 

And his log barn was full of cattle people. 
And neighboring shacks were full of wives and 

children, 
Save one, which building it had made my own. 
Its spirit welcomed me when I came home. 

A hewn or rough log house made by its owner 
Is such an architectural part of him 
That when he's gone the house he built is lonely. 
First settlers' shacks are built with heart and 

soul. 
Each log is cut and hewn and fitted by a mold 
Which each inherits from the days of old 
From his own architectural ancestry. 
While in his new-found freedom there is Love. 
For Love's the innerness of living men 
As hair's the outerness of roguish bears. 
And as whitepeople like their special neighbors. 
So Indians and frontiersmen welcome strangers. 
And there's no knowing time so long ago 
When people did not welcome honest peddlers. 
So when Loraine had given the peddler tea 
I took the weary peddler home with me. 

I quite forgot that my one bed was narrow, 
And short, not long enough if I slept straight; 
But first frontiersmen do not borrow troubles 



TOWARD THE SUN 55 

If there is game and they have strength and 

rifles. 
I was the Christian, he the wandering Jew, 
And we were snug and smug in bed together 
As twins are in their home before they're born. 
Tliere was no wall to keep the Israelite 
And Christian separate in that small bed. 
He said he dreamed he was a Christian priest; 
I did not dream at all. I seldom dream. 

The morning came and I must cook for two. 
And self respect forbids to cook for two 
Tho' one may give his food to three or more. 
And men despise a man who'll cook for them. 
"Ye cannot serve two masters," Jesus said. 

Childbearing is enough for woman's curse. 
And it's her joy. What humbles her too much 
Is her old task to cook for two, or more. 
She is a slave for this; it makes her mean; 
Then men do flatter her and make her meaner. 

The Jew said, 'T can't cook, so you must cook. 
Then something in the cupboard, whispering, 

said: 
"Do you think one and one are only two? 
Our school arithmetic confuses you. 
They're one, just one, or else it's helibelou. 



56 TOWARD THE SUN 

'They twain shall be one flesh,' not two, you 

know." 
It startled me. How could the Jew and I, 
Tho' brothers, twins as 'twere, become one 

flesh? 
We still were two, and two is helibelou. 

I looked and I'd no food but flapjack meal. 

A bite of this or that is food enough 

When any thankful body's sole alone. 

But when a body thinks somebody thinks 

His flapjack feast is flapjack poverty 

It makes full many a good man's feast a fast. 

Why is it household work for only two 
Is eight times household work for only one? 
E'en when the "twain" are one it's largely so. 
And as I've seen the only case I know 
Where it's not so is where two friends are one 
So firm that each would die to save the other, 
Yet at the merest word they'd clench each other. 

Is not this soulful attitude Life's balm. 

Which gives the first frontier its godly charm? 

And when "they twain" become in Love one 

flesh. 
Would 't not be better for them thus to live? 



TOWARD THE SUN 57 

When two are fairly matched in avoirdupois 
It's blows received and freely given that weld 
The twain into an ardent loving link. 

Two touch-me-nots together are a curse 
Than woman — chattel — slavery much worse. 
All's wanting then's for women to grow large 
As I have sometimes seen Arikaras, 
Or else for men to somewhat smaller grow. 
As I have seen some dwarf-like Ghippewas. 
For one alone can hardly be true glee, 
Since Nature is a great community. 

I stirred lake- water with the flapjack meal 
And fried the flapjack dough with expert skill. 
The odor from the frying dough was good, 
Tho flapjacks thus were like unleavened bread. 

There was no syrup, coffee, tea or bacon, 
Just flapjacks, nothing more, and pure lake- 
water. 
I'd eaten thus before and I felt rich. 
But, cooking for the peddler, I felt poor. 

A bite of this or that and then a smoke. 
With feasting like a monarch now and then, 
When lucky praying fetches game his way, 
Makes many a hunter live full long and gay. 



58 TOWARD THE SUN 

And ()\(i Irontiersmen know Life's code so well 
That fasting does not seem to them like hell. 
And I wiJl swear that one and one are two, 
And two and two are four, and four and four 
Are eight, whate'er the whispering cupboard 

says, 
Till wives and children we all love so well 
Mak(; house-hold Jiving joy, or cubic helJ. 

And I have often seen frontiersmen live 

In pairs, by fours, by eights and tens and more, 

All living in a gay community. 

Each knew another fellow's mind so well 

That fasting did not give that dolc'ful spell 

Which cooks oft iavA when strangers come 

along 
And empty cupboards sing a doleful song. 

It's not cows' faces bring this dolefulness. 
Is it the idol-cupboard's teasing song? 
Is it because we're not sincere enough 
To have Life's Ih^art and wear it on the sleeve? 
You solve this dubious riddle; 1 cannot. 
I only know arithmetic holds good 
With honest Indians and with first frontiers- 
men, 



TOWARD THE SUN 



59 



Bui when (lie blessed wives .nid diildrcui coine. 
And (•u|)l)(>jirds come nnd schools :in(l churches 
come. 

Arilhinelic is Iwish'd oul of joinl. 

And slrjin^eis coniin/^ rioni conuMunilies 

Where (wo limes one is cuhic loui' or moic, 

on h.jve to l)e inilijiled eic 

They undeishind I'lonlier sim|)licily. 

I tried lo e;il n hile oi- Iwo, Ihen s.iid: 
*"J'he slorm's .i hrior, hope ifll ch'Jir up soon." 
]\(t tried to e;i( m hile oi* Iwo, then sjiid: 
"Is this whnt peo|)le live on in these moun- 
tains?" 

And I forget th;it when Ihe slorm wjis p;ist 
And all was sunshine, I woidd ^o lo lown 
And swa|> my muskrat skins for Mom* and hacon. 
And I forgot about Ihe |)lenleous /^ame, 
Ihe sport ol iiunlers in Ihe winlerlime. 
Like, i^eler- when he "wisl nol what he said," 
I was coiiluscd and wist not wliat to say. 



I quite I'or^ol thai frontier breadth of soul 
Wliicb rev'rences in all Ihe tritx^s of men 
I»eli^ion as the earth's most precious /»em. 



6o TOWARD THE SUN 

And impolitely to my guest I said: 
"Remember, this is Christian Friday, Sir." 

His face was pure disgusJ for Christendom, 
A picture such as I have seldom seen, 
A pleasing keen disgust which looked as large 
As a Dakota evening mirage. 

And since I am no stickler for church-fads, 
I liked the picture, tho' 'twas 'gainst my creed. 

If I was hell-judge, I'd set free from hell 
Those who have cooked for others, and cooked 

well. 
''Blessed are the meek" {id est, the drudges), 
*Tor they shall inherit the earth" (as slaves) . 



TOWARD THE SUN 6i 

IS THERE A GOD? 

Is there a God? Inscrutable! 
There's some Great Soul invisible 
Who does big things like God correct 
While devilish ships o' state are wrecked. 

He curses men who for the sake 
Of their own greed will willing break 
The Life-laws in the earth and sky, 
And hope for heaven when they die. 

To die, to die — a miracle! 
Immortal Life inscrutable 
Like God! and of the same design 
For MEN, who die without a whine. 

The earth is holy; love her, kiss her, 
The saints in heaven above would miss her 
If they awoke tomorrow morn 
And earth, sweet holy earth, was gone. 

Sweet little dewey flower, thou'rt Love, 
And with my heart I love you so 
That I could quit the heavens above 
And anywhither with you go. 

Note — In the old Sioux Indian sacred legends the name 
of Deity seldom appears. Where it does appear, it is evi- 
dently a modern interpolation. The Living Presence of 
Wakantanka (Deity) is assumed, implied and felt in every- 
thing. So He is not mentioned by name.) 



62 TOWARD THE SUN 

THOUGH 'T'S DARK (3) 

(Quotations are Indian) 

"Though 't's dark a man's bare feet can sense 
A road that leads up o'er a hill," 
Unless he's schooled to scorn his feet 
And idolize an ill-made will. 

Step-step, step-step, each step gives birth 
To something more than WILL or NIL, 
If man will only live a life 
That helps a fellow go uphill. 

Instead of shoeing baby's feet. 

Best wash them in Life's dew more often, 

For "Life-tides tingling in the feet 

Will many a hurtful tumble soften." 

Each Living bairn must climb the hill, 

"Life-bravery is more than all 

In studied WILL and lazy NIL;" 

And Faith and Hope and Charity. 

"Be brave enough to meet despair; 

Of course some time each man will fall, 

What of it, Life is everywhere. 

So listen when Life's voices call." 



TOWARD THE SUN 63 

And in Life's trail, uphill or down, 
With desert sands or garden flowers, 
"A man needs most a healthy hide 
Bathed in the snows and summer showers." 



(Note — Old Indians (till with the destruction, discour- 
agement came), continuously bathed their feet in dew and 
snow, and their bodies in snow and rain and "sacred living 
watee." The purpose of this was more "to keep the percep- 
tions keen" than to keep the body clean.) 



64 TOWARD THE SUN 



TUNKANA'S SONG 

(An old Indian woman (Tunkana) on the train in the 
seat with me sang, humming, the following song. I thought 
it was poetry and so I wrote it.) 



I shall sing and my heart will be glad 
When the roses are blooming again, 
And the grass in the meadows is green 
And the violets are blue in the glen. ' 
I am looking and waiting till then, 
I am waiting and watching till then. 

I shall sing and my heart will be glad 
Like the hearts of the birds and the dew, 
In the land of the evening mirage 
Where my poor crippled heart will be new. 
I am looking and waiting till then, 
I am waiting and watching till then. 

I shall sing and my heart will be glad 
With the spirits of dead men at rest. 
In the land of the evening mirage, 
Where the grandmother-spirits are blest. 
I am looking and waiting till then, 
I am waiting and watching till then. 



(Note — Sioux Indians, more than some other Indians, 
were fond of flowers.) 



TOWARD THE SUN 65 

THE CATHEDRAL 

The Church is money. Steepled domes 
No more smile heavenward; full of pride 
They frown confusion o'er the homes 
Of men whose lives are crucified. 
The Head had better be in Rome 
Than in New York, great Mammon's home. 

Tall columns by the Alta'K reared, 
Inscribed with names of millionaires 
Instead of simple saints endeared 
To God and man — the heart despairs. 
The Head had better be in Rome 
Than in New York, great Mammon's home. 

The pitying canopies above 

Are wondering at the earth beneath, 

For Mammon is devouring Love 

And saints no more have space to breathe. 

The Head had better be in Rome 

Than in New York, great Mammon's home. 



66 TOWARD THE SUN 

Wee little dewy flower. 
So blessed and so shy; 
Thou'rt dear to me, and for 
My love for thee I'd die. 



(Note — ^To depict the name of a man on a "sacred thing" 
seems sacreligeous to Sioux Indians, yet images and pic- 
tures of saints (without names) are welcome to them, as rep- 
resenting Deity.) 



TOWARD THE SUN 67 

OUTRE 

I'd like to see mad cities gone, 

Homes once more between the seas. 

Holy earth and whispering dawn 
Peaceful in the cooing breeze. 

The truthful villages along 

Wooded rivers, fields of corn 
Truly worshipped, birds of song 

Gleeful when a child is born. 

Fond mothers singing lullabies 
When their babies go to sleep, 

Mother-hope that beautifies 
Faces, even when they weep. 

False teaching has at last become 

Terror in the lives of men. 
War is its delirium 

Battling for Life's heart again. 

False living has become outre, 

Deadly to Life's Sanity, 
When its selfish aims betray 

God and God's humanity. 



68 TOWARD THE SUN 

BIG JOE 

(A frontier saloon scene) 

Bill gazed and said, 

"That man ain't Joe— that's Joe! 
What ails Big Joe? 

His face is white as snow, 
He's like a ghost, 

And if the wind should blow 
'Twould be the last 

Of what is left of Joe;" 
The others laughed. 

For Joe was fat and plump, 
And Joe could stand 

Full many a thump and bump. 
Yet drunken Bill 

Said Joe was like a shade. 
That's what Bill saw. 

No matter what Joe weighed. 

An Indian said, 

"Bill see Joe as he be 
When he be old. 

Wait lot more moons and see." 
And it was so. 

I saw him thin and spare. 
White faced and lean, 

And with a ghostly stare. 



TOWARD THE SUN 69 

And yet 'twas Joe, 

Brimfull of wit and grit, 
Though old time vests 

Were hardly now a fit. 

I think of this, 

This change which wan't a change; 
And let my thought 

Through wider regions range. 
A man at last. 

Can't see him with my eye; 
They say: "He's dead," 

Because he said: '*Goodbye." 



(Note — Bill, when intoxicated, had considerable of an In- 
dian's ability to see a man as he will look when grown old.) 



70 TOWARD THE SUN 

UNKIND HOUSES (4) 

(Quotations are Indian) 

It's pain-creating incongruity to me 
To see a house outlive the builder's family tree; 
Ancestral souls incarnate in the building gone, 
While interlopers coming make or change a 
lawn. 

If there's no heir to keep the sacred hearth and 

fire, 
Tear down the house; dont sell it to a bastard 

buyer. 

Amer'can tearing down and building up — with 

greed, 
Or British interloping with a title-deed, 
I'd sooner build myself a rough-log shack, or 

try it. 
Than like my British cousins, steal a house or 

buy it. 
Amer'cans do forget the thought of ancestry, 
And Britons lack Amer'can crude sincerity. 

Emotions native to an Indian's feeling mind 
Make stolen bastard tepees seem to him unkind. 
"When there's no more a living kinsman to in- 
herit 
A dead man's tepee, sacrifice it to his spirit." 



TOWARD THE SUN ^\ 



GOD BLESS YOU 
I don't believe in swearing 
And too much "riproar tearing," 
And so I do not preach it 
''God ('11) damn you 
If you don't see and teach it 
Just as I do. 

I do believe in fairies 

Beyond where pain and care is, 

And so my priestly prayer is, 

"God ('11) bless you, 

Howe'er like mine your share is 

Comfortless too. 

Each creature's heaven is somewhere, 
Tho for a while he must bear 
His task in this world's living. 
While fairie-songs are whispering, 
Hope tomorrow. 

Plunge deeper in Life's sorrow, 

Go neath the waves and borrow 

More heartaches till the heart breaks, 

For't can't endure it. 

The heart aches? Well, more heartaches, 

That will cure it. 



72 TOWARD THE SUN 

DREAMING OF THE GREAT THUNDERBIRD 

(Indian 

Do you know that the flowers are dreaming 
Till the lightnings above them are gleaming 
And the Thunderbird comes with his Word, 
For they dream of the great Thunderbird. 
Gome away, we will hunt for the Bird 
And we'll ask him to lend us his Word, 
And we'll borrow the Lightnings far gleam- 
ing 
To awaken the world from its dreaming. 

Do you know that the eagles are flying 
And the people are dreaming and dying. 
Till the Thunderbird comes with his Word, 
For they dream of the great Thunderbird. 
Gome away, we will hunt for the Bird 
And we'll ask him to lend us his Word, 
And we'll borrow the Lightnings far gleam- 
ing 
To awaken the world from its dreaming. 



TOWARD THE SUN 



7Z 



Or if not, we will pray that our dreaming 

May be one with the Lightnings far gleaming, 

And may carry us upward so far 

That we'll live in a beautiful star. 

Gome away, we will hunt for the Bird 
And we'll ask him to lend us his Word, 
And we'll borrow the Lightnings far gleam- 
ing 

To awaken the world from its dreaming. 

(Note— Observing that in the springtime plant life does 
not flourish on the earth, Indians conclude that all things on 
the earth, including people, need the awakening, healthgiving 
inspiration of the Thunderbird.) 



74 TOWARD THE SUN 

SUNSET KALEIDOSCOPE 
(At Cannon Ball, N. D., Feb. 11, 1911) 
Ethereal saffron colors pore, 
Beneath the almost setting sun. 
Across the western snow all o'er 
The vastness in the western skies. 

(later) 
A rising yellow rim is seen 
Across the vastness in the east, 
It soon becomes a purplish sheen, 
A rising, floating tidal sea. 

(later) 
The sun has gone beneath the snow. 
The east, northeast and north and west 
With varying colors are aglow. 
And wondrously magnificent. 

(later) 
Now rims of almost every hue 
Are floating, mingling o'er the earth. 
The zenith is translucent blue. 
The west is like a flame of fire. 

(later) 
It's night. The sunset lights are gone. 
One-windowed shacks show candlelights. 
That star I love begins to peep. 
I'll stir the fire, it's bitter cold. 



TOWARD THE SUN 75 

THE OLD MISSOURI RIVER 

(A glance, not a government survey) 
The old Missouri pleases me, 

Gay lawless queen o' waters treams. 
And virtuous too, if virtue be 

The lawless things we do in dreams. 
She takes her cue from her own heart 
And boldly loves illegal art. 

The queen o 'western fairies, name her. 
And let her do her lawless tricks. 

'Twould be too bad for man to tame her 
With sheriffs in her bailiwicks. 

Let her be free and let her roam 

From snowy founts to ocean foam. 

Just for a prank once in a while 

She's rather thick to navigate. 
And then she builds a fairy isle 

For greedy men to cultivate. 
But on the whole it's all in vain 
To plow a fairy isle for gain. 



76 TOWARD THE SUN 

"Her sacred waters have a charm. 

Good medicine," old Indians tell, 
"Great Spirit made them for a balm 

To cure a man or keep him well." 
Let her be free forever, free 
From snowy founts to foaming sea. 

"If there are no gods but God and the devil, 
who made the Missouri River?" 
(An old frontier saying) 



TOWARD TH E SUN ^'j 

DEANS 

"The Dean" had a waddle in North Dakota 
As if he owned a townsite in Manitoba. 
A "Dean" is dean for life, or else no ''Dean," 
As wifeing makes her wife, or else its sin. 
This side of Canada "Deans" come and go. 
As brooks go dry, then take a hunch to flow. 
So "Deans" and those who have been '**Deans" 

must waddle. 
And show they're "Deans" by deanish runeful 

twaddle. 
The Dean of Westminster's above the Bishop, 
Beside the Dean, by his permit, the Bishop; 
(I mean when he's in deandom spick and span.) 
This side of Canada a dean's a man, 
Forgets the townsite waddle— if he can, 
Forgets the deanish twaddle— if he can, 
Sometimes becomes a faithful clergyman. 
Attends, as best he can, to duties given 
Till, like a citizen, he goes to heaven. 



78 TOWARD THE SUN 

THE PAINTED DEMON 

(Indian) 

Alone out in a sunny plain, 

In generations long ago, 

There lived a "holy man" (a saint). 

At last a painted demon came, 

His eyes with northern light aglow. 

His face smeared o'er with northern paint. 

To plague the praying "holy man" 

The demon ate his every prayer. 

E'en when he prayed inaudible. 

Until the ''holy man" began 

A prayer: "I pray the Sun to spare. 

If sparing him is possible. 

This painted demon. Cure his head 

And make him humble, though he's damned 

(sica). 
The demon choked, felt sick and fled. 
Humility was like coarse sand 
For him to eat, unsavory. 



TOWARD THE SUN 79 

The demon came a few times more 
To eat up what the man would pray, 
But when he prayed "Humility," 
The demon's throat became too sore 
To swallow, and he fled away — 
So people learned humility. 

(Note— Old Indians made much of humility (igluhukuni- 
ciye) and charity (wacantkiye). They failed in the exercise 
of thees virtues somewhat, as whitepeople do, though their 
social system made practical charity more strictly necessary 
than it is in the whitemen's "civilization." There are sev- 
eral legends regarding demons or evil spirits (wanagi sica). 



8o TOWARD THE SUN 

TO A MAPLE LEAF 

(Under a maple tree before a schoolhouse, my little girl 
playmate and I were eating a dinner of corncake. She put 
a maple leaf into my primer, saying: "When you see it, 
think of me." A few days later she died. Many years later 
I saw the maple leaf, and wrote this poem.) 

Sweet maple leaf, I look and sigh 
Beholding earth and heaven in this 

One leaf whose native glory, shy 
And pleasing, in a world of bliss. 

Delicious fragrance, darling hues 

Entuning notes of lyric joy. 
How could my hand this leaf abuse, 

Or any native gem destroy! 

And when I see you falling low. 
In autumn garb divinely glovdng. 

The fire of noontide, faint and slow, 
Will find all shadows softer growing. 



TOWARD THE SUN 8i 



TO A PLAYFUL SNAKE 

(Indians have no idea of a sacred curse on snakes. They 
(especially Arikaras) do have an idea of a sacred curse on 
dogs.) 

Poor creature— most of all despised and hated 

By men ! Nor have the Christian years abated 

Thy storied blame. — 

Still creeping in the dust, 

Poor thing! I pity thee for they great shame. 

Ah, maybe gentler moons are now arising. 

To rectify our blameful false surmising. 

And some sweet day. 

Than other days more just. 

The agelong curse on thee will pass away. 

Come here, sweet creature, coil about my arm 

In play— thy people ne'er have done me harm; 

I've played with them 

And heard their breathing, hushed 

Like spirit-breath, inaudible to men. 



82 TOWARD THE SUN 

A WOMAN AIN'T (5) 

(Quotations are Indian) 

"Whate'er a man is, a woman ain't;" 
Her hearty-pleading, is Life's own plaint. 
The world has raped her, and she is mad, 
So ''what a man is," be 't mad or glad, 
"A woman ain't. 

Whate'er her soul is, her fads and fancies. 
Life-laws forbid her to be as man is. 
She's ne'er contented, she's all progressive, 
A man's contented, to livCy to live — 
A woman ain't. 

She's Nature's darling, she's love-responsive. 
She feeds on Lovetides, she must to live. 
If Lovetides fool her, she's out of tune — 
A man to Lovetides is half immune; 
A woman ain't. 

Alone the Indian can worship Life — 
But '* she's Life^-mother, tho' she is wife," 
And "she can't worship alone as man can;' 
For what a man is by Natures man-plan, 
A woman ain't. 



TOWARD THE SUN 83 

"The Sun, our Father, in the blue dome. 
Ne'er made a tepee, ne'er made a home, 
And all his journeys make naught his own; 
Like him, a man is content to roam, 
A woman ain't. 

Whitewomen's castles, to keep Life out. 
Don't suit their nature, and they will pout 
Till they destroy them, and with true fancies 
Have built what they are; for "what a man is 
A woman ain't." 



(Note — While among Indians women are more like men 
than they are among whitepeople, yet is vividly realized that 
there is a fundamental and essential difference between 
female and male.) 



84 TOWARD THE SUN 

"WHY SHOULD I?" 

(A study of an Indian maiden) 

"Why should I — even I — 

Why should I-i — even I-i — 

Let my poor heart be sad — 

Let my p-oo-r — H-e-a-rt — be sad — 

Because of that bad boy." (Last line rushing.) 

'Twas in the Turtle Mountains, 

Out west from Lake Itaska, 

Just south from Manitoba. 

With desp'rate maddened heart and soul 

An Indian maiden sang beeanth an oaktree 

Beside the waters in a mountain lake. 

And in the lake, inviting her to plunge 

With outstretched arms, she saw her "other 

self," 
Strange "other self," as Indians call the self 
In shadow-forms portrayed, in answering 

echoes. 
In mnemographic picture-scrolls abiding. 
In living songs composed t' avenge a wrong. 
In garments eager hands have deftly made; 
The "other self" of some dear relative 
A long, long way from home and hast'ning 

home, 
Arriving home some days ahead of him, 



TOWARD THE SUN 85 

So friends behold this "other self" and sing 
A ''home-return-song" while he's coming home; 
The "other self" that goes far off in dreams, 
Or in a state that's much akin to dreams; 
The "other self" in what a heart has loved, 
Especially where a "holy man" has prayed; 
In totems by the aid of spirits made. 
In voices that live on when lips are sealed. 
So many living various souls in self 
That one can't hardly know he is a self, 
Unless he feels a narrowing sense of pain. 
For joy in beast or man or God blends self 
With all whate'er a self can know and feel. 

This Indian maiden's ''other self" in water. 
A pleading living person like herself. 
Was calling her with sympathy to come. 
Enticing her to plunge and hush from pain 
Her agonizing, scorned, rejected self. 

In ecstacy before the plunge she sang. 
The song would live for many a day. 
Pursuing him whose scorn was killing her. 
And then, as if to bid this life farewell. 
She sang once more in wilder, higher notes. 
And now the zephyrs brought the forest echo. 
Her throbbing, quavering vocal ''other self 



86 TOWARD THE SUN 

Repeating with precision what she sang. 

She sang by phrases, harked to hear the echo — 

"Why should I?" A startling tone replied. 
"Even I-i?" A painful aching tone; 
It softened her hysteria, I thought, 
As if a mother's kiss had touched her voice. 
And yet 'was gentler, more ethereal terror; 
For when an Indian woman's heart is mad 
Her voice, high keyed, is soft as softest ether, 
And in it there's a magic tone of terror. 
*'Let my p-oo-r h-e-a-r-t," — Abandonment. 
"Be s-a-d." Pathetic longing without hope. 
Then with a startling rush she sang the phrase : 
"Because of that bad boy." The rushing echo 
Seemed to be a spearhead thrust to kill. 
I almost saw its victim bleed and die. 
While maddened laughter sang of sweet re- 
venge. 
And this gave sudden change to her mad mood; 
For when she heard the note of her revenge 
She wailed, one might have heard it half a mile. 

It's native to the human heart to wail 
Till cultured souls restrained by city laws, 
Give up spontaneous moods that keep folks 
sane, 



TOWARD THE SUN 87 

And lose the poise that barely saves despair. 
Between her "other self" the vocal echo 
And her mute "other self" in living water 
She hesitated, swayed as leaves are swayed 
When shaken by the wind. — She did not plunge. 
Her "other self," the echo, held her back. 
Exhausted in the dubious painful poise 
'Tween this world's life and death, she shrieked 
and fell. 

It's thus with all of us. Man's ''other self" 
In vocal echoes wafted in the winds, 
In pleasing institutions he has loved, 
In all whate'er his handicraft has built, 
In strong desire to see what is in store 
For things the genius of his race has done, 
In honored ancestry, in living friends. 
In all that's precious for posterity, — 
These are the cords that tie men to this world. 
They far outweigh the dubious "other self" 
That calls to plunge, else when the heart is sore 
With pain beyond endurance, men would 
plunge. 

The elements of this world's mechanism 

In man's own structure clutch him here so 

strong 
That suicide's almost impossible. 



TOWARD THE SUN 



It's not religion, bravery and hope 
Alone that tilt the quavering scales this way. 
It's clutching law in man's own mechanism. 
So men stay here until they have to go. 

And he who lives the universal Life, 
'Tween death and living he can have no choice; 
To him, to live is Life, to die no gain, 
Unless t' escape what's more'n his share of pain. 

Life's holy hither hand has writ the task, 
A plunge can't lessen by one whit the task, 
And painless ones who've plunged to quit the 

task 
Are hopeless, pleading for Life's pain again, 
And longing for the tasks with living men. 

I nearer drew, for I was watching her. 
Intending if she plunged to rescue her. 
She softly breathed. I wondered if she 
dreamed. 

This tells in brief what I alertly saw, 
And wondered what 'twould tell me of Life's 
law. 



TOWARD THE SUN 89 

THE SONG OF THE HOODED VIOLET 

AND 

THE REPLY OF 'THE MOTHER" 

The Violet (singing and dreaming) : 
Who kisses me upon my brow 
With darling lips my dreams allow 

So tenderly 

So soothingly? 

*The Mother" (singing) : 

'Tis but your mother's balmy kiss 

Ere you awake with striving men, 
And painful find the way to bliss, 

When you despair I'll come again. 

(Note — If a man (not a woman) hears the blue hooded 
violet singing, he immediately plucks the singing flower, so 
its soul will go back to the heart of its mother in "holy 
earth." If he did not do this the violet-soul would at once 
become the soul of a girl-baby born that moment somewhere 
in the world. And he and this girl-baby would both be 
wretched till they meet and talk together, in this life or in 
the other life. A legend tells how a man one time did 
not pluck the flower, and how, after long wanderings, he 
found the girl and went away somewhere with her in a 
boat. But nobody knows where they went, or where they 
are now.) 



90 TOWARD THE SUN 

THERE ARE (6) 

(Quoted phrases are from Indian lore) 
"There are men who will stick-fast and help, 
There are men who will stick-fast and hurt, 
There are cowardly dogs who will yelp, 
There are dogs who will never desert." 

"There are women whose strong love will hold, 
There are women whose heartbeats are cold, 
There are virtues a plenty untold, 
There are lies that have lived to grow old." 

"There are fools who have studied in schools. 
There are babes who are born to be fools. 
There are Whitemen and Indians like mules, 
There's confusion with too many rules." 

"But the best thing of all is a man 
Who don't strut like a bear in the clan 
And don't carry an eaglewing fan, 
So's to make himself big if he can." 

Sign, sing, ye watersprings. 

Softy through the dells; 
Angels, fly with softer wings. 

Softly ring, ye bells. 

(Note — Indians do not fancy the Scriptural text about 
the Gospel winnowing-f an. They say regarding it : "Wos- 
kiske kage" — "It is a fellow who splits the community.") 



TOWARD THE SUN 91 



THE RAINBOW DOOR 

A house appeared, not in the air 

Or on the earth, and where it was 
I know not, but the house was fair 

To look upon, as Nature was 
A rainbow doorway opened wide. 

Out came a man and what his name 
I know not. Others by his side 

He saw not, cared not for their fate. 

Then afterward, an age or more, 

I looked and saw this man alone, 
A skeleton before the door; 

He was all gone but life and bone; 
And he was clawing at the door. 

Sometimes he shrieked with fancied fear, 
Sometimes he swooned, then 'woke once more; 

And thus he'd been for many a year. 

I, pitying, shouted: "Read the sign!" 

He heard not. O'er this door was writ: 
"Once opened, closed all aftertime." 

But he'd no eyes for reading it. 
Save life and bone he was all gone; 

Sluffed off the good and ill he'd done. 
Stuffed off the hopes he'd had and lost, 

Sluffed off the dubious race he'd run. 



92 TOWARD THE SUN 

This anxious being, gaunt and thin, 

Had not a foible or a sin. 
If he could find the way within 

The tenants there would welcome him. 
Yet he would have his own sweet way, 

He would not, could not try to find 
Another doorway, so for aye 

He clawed about the rainbow door. 



TOWARD THE SUN 93 

MRS. SHREW AND HER HUSBAND 

Mrs. Shrew 

Why is it that a man wants a woman to pet, 

And does not pet the rose in the dell? 
Tell me why ever man wants a woman to love, 
And canont love the lily as well? 

Her Husband 
Ah, the heart of a man truly touches Life's heart 

When in touch with a lover's fond heart; 
For by Nature's Life-plan her fond heart can 
impart 
What the rose and the lily cannot. 
So if Prudence requires that your hand shall 
be gloved, 
Your warm heart 'gainst my heart needn't be 
faint; 
For Life-law is fulfilled when a lover is loved 
Without Prudence to give love restraint. 

Mrs. Shrew 
Oh, how tall a man seems when his loving is 
true. 
And how small when his loving is false; 
So unless virtuous loving is prudent in you, 
It will lessen, not strengthen. Life's pulse. 



94 TOWARD THE SUN 

It is love without raping, or else it is hell 
Which takes all things, and gives nothing 
back; 
Virtuous Prudence should teach you that lov- 
ing pell-mell 
May leave bairns for regret in its track. 

Her Husband 
Ah, it's Caution and Prudence engender much 
strife. 

It's damned Prudence and Caution make hell. 
And I swear by the rose and the lily, my wife 

Should forget both, and love me pell-mell. 
Is there virtue in Prudence, or Caution in Life? 

It's cold Prudence creates the cold twain. 
And I swear by the tone of the tomtom and fife. 

It's cold Prudence that makes loving vain. 



TOWARD THE SUN 95 

THE MOST "BEASTLY BUGGER" 

If a lordly king or courtly bishop comes to take 
By lordliness the home you love so well, and 

make 
You feel his lordly burly bigness, be a man; 
Endure his hurly-burly bigness, if you can, 
For in the world there's many another "beastly 

bugger." 

If a poodle-petting in-law comes and "swipes" 

your home 
Which patient, soulful handicraft has made 

your own. 
Don't "cuss" the poodle-loving creature, be a 

man. 
Though old-maid in-laws are askew in Nature's 

plan, 
For in the world there's many another "beastly 

bugger." 

If a chirping little flickertail or dancing mouse 
Comes saucily for bread and butter in your 

house. 
Why, give each ''beastly bugger" half a piece of 

bread 



96 TOWARD THE SUN 

If he will promise not to steal more'n half your 

bed. 
For in the world there's many another "beastly 

bugger." 

Just remember, we are beasts and birds of the 

same feather. 
Some suited to the springtime; some to frosty 

weather. 
Some peaceable and some inclined to stretch 

their tether; 
Yet restrain yourself from too much "cussin" 

this and t'other. 
For in the world there's many another "beastly 

bugger." 

And in every hill and dale I know 'neath the 
blue dome 

Some ardent creature makes each crack and 
nook its home 

Till man, of all the beasts most "beastly bug- 
ger, tears 

Each creature's home with horns and hoofs and 
cutting shares, 

For man, of all the beasts, is the most "beastly 
bugger." 



TOWARD THE SUN 97 



A bore is a man who has thought without see- 
ing, 
Without seeing and feeling Life-facts, 
And his thinking's gone dry, so one half of his 
being 
With the dryness of thinking half cracks. 



98 TOWARD THE SUN 

TO WAKAN-SIGA 

(Wakan-Sica is rather erroneously translated "devil." 
By old Indian thought, Wakan-Sica can, if he will, help 
people.) 

O De'il, may 't please your exc'lency, 
Pray quit your pranks, and manfully. 
With subtle wisdom you possess, 

Assist the poise of righteousenss, 
For right is in bad plight today. 

The clerks, no doubt, exaggerate 
Your total badness, and your fate. 
And as the day includes the night, 
God needs you battling for the right, 
For right is in bad plight today. 

And since we all must pull together 
In sunny days and wint'ry weather, 
We pray you quit your boyish pranks 
And join the "get-together" ranks, 
For right is in bad plight today. 

There's no use lugging oldtime grudges 
Till we're worn out, and being drudges 
For naught. It's better to relieve 
The wrongs that honest effort grieve. 
For right is in bad plight today. 



TOWARD THE SUN 99 

DEFENDERS 

(Written at the time of the British conscription, 1916) 

If maddened waves attack the strand 
To steal away the people's land, 
Or pirates make a cruel war, 
Whatever they say the war is for, 
I cannot see good reason why 
Defenders should not fight and die. 

If Winter drives blest Summer back 
With desolation in his track 
Till Summer, full of merry might. 
Retrieves the battle for the right, 
I cannot see good reason why 
Defenders should not fight and die. 

Brave Britons have an island home 
Which love in toil has made their own; 
They love each nook and sunny place 
Where home is mirrored in each face. 
If foemen come, pray tell me why 
Brave Britons should not fight and die? 



lOO TOWARD THE SUN 

A FALSE FALLING STAR 

Full too often I've seen a gay lassies' fair face 

And above it two eyes full of wit 

But a man's love for her could go only so far 

Till he saw it would be a misfit. 

It was lovely at first, but 'twas only so far 

Till he saw her, a false falling star. 

And he did not require that a brow full of 

brains 
Should consent to become his own bride, 
But he did want a woman with womanly aims, 
Just two equal free souls side by side. 
It was lovely at first, but 'twas only so far 
Till he saw her, a false falling star. 

When the lassie he married did leave him. Oh! 

Oh! 
For she found him too simply inclined; 
Then he bade her adieu with a sigh and a 

prayer 
For the brainier man she would find. 
It was lovely at first, but 'twas only so far 
Till he saw her, a false falling star. 



TOWARD THE SUN loi 



I like to look at a flower 
A flower the way God made it, 
With nothing to parade it, 
With nothing to upbraid it, — 
Just a flower, a God-made flower. 



I02 TOWARD THE SUN 

T' WORK AN' BOOST 

Not far away I know two farms, 
Each farmer has good legs and arms, 
One has a plenty, some to spare. 
The other's farm would make you swear. 
One's motto is *T' work an' boost," 
The other likes to shirk and roost. 

I asked the first one: "How y' comin'?" 

He, "Well, the crops is just a-hummin,' 

All's wantin'. Sirs, t' get 'em cut, 

Dakota beats Connecticut. 

My motto is 'T' work an boost,' 

Not set an' hug the wheatcrop roost." 

I, "Be the bankers screwin' you?" 
He, "Money sharks can't ruin you 
If you have corn an' dairy cows. 
Alfalfa colts an' Yorkshire sows. 
My motto is 'T' work an' boost,' 
Not set an' hug the wheatcrop roost." 



TOWARD THE SUN 103 

I, ''Be y' goin' to vote this fall?" 
He, "Well, maybe, but after all 
It's tweedle-dee an' tweedle-dum, 
An' 't keeps a fellow guessin' some. 
My motto is 'T' work an' boost,' 
Not set an' hug the wheatcrop roost." 

I, ''Well, maybe you'll vote for me. 
It's tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee." 
He, "Well, maybe, you're quite a man. 
Say, be y' a 'Nonpartisan?' 
My motto is 'T' work an' boost,' 
Not set an' hug the wheatcrop roost." 



104 TOWARD THE SUN 

TILL THE TOMTOM COMES (8) 

Three hundred Indian tents a jovial circle form. 

And all outside the circle jovial horses neigh. 

The people are in jovial moods from earliest 

dawn 

Till gliding amber clouds are gone at close 

of day. 

*'Wana," the old blind herald, loudly calls and 
quick, 
The place's forsaken, there's no human voice 
or tone 
Or trace of people, save perhaps a half-burned 
stick 
And here and there a tentpin hole and bleach- 
ing bone. 

And yet there's joy, children, pups and all re- 
joice 
And laugh together in the forward moving 
train. 
Unmindful of the desolated town whose voice 
Is silent, dreaming till the tomtom comes 
again. 



TOWARD THE SUN 105 

It's thus with cities built with parapet and wall, 
Tho' days go slower when the world takes on 
a rush, 
At last there is no man to hear mans' bugle call, 
There's earth and sky and rain and day- 
dawn's purple blush. 



io6 TOWARD THE SUN 

"GIVE AND YE SHALL RECEIVE" 

It's drink for drink and tit for tat 

When drinks go 'round, remember that, 

For all we take we'll have to give 

A measureful if you'n I live. 

Some people think they don't believe 

When they see Nature all qui vive. 

It's all qui vive, remember that, 

A bear, a badger or a rat. 

It's give and take, it's hide for hide. 

It's love and tears for groom and bride. 

It's drama and the more ybu give 

The more you'll weep, the more you'll live. 

It's tit for tat, it's drink for drink. 

No matter how you love to think, 

For Life is long and Love is true. 

And Life and Love are old and new. 

And there's no veto on Life's plan, 

Howe'er ill-luck may hit a man. 



TOWARD THE SUN 107 

SHE MUST BECOME A BRIDE (9) 

(Quotations are Indian. One cannot be quite certain 
with what Indian tribe any saying or legend originated.) 

"As now and then a brilliant ear of corn is seen 
More noble than the others, so it is with men. 
And tho' the nubbins are as sacred as the ears 
And often whine disconsolate like winter spirits 
If women scorn to pluck them in the harvest- 
time, 
Yet "holy ones" revealed it to our ancestors 
That what is best in corn and men shall be for 
seed." 



"Nobility in menfolks makes them wish to wed, 
Nobility in maidens always lacks due poise; 
It makes them feel aloof from the community; 
Nobility in mothers gives them sympathy." 

(Mandan Indian 

*'A man or wolf knows what he wants, 
And when he gets it he is glad. 

A maiden dont' know what she wants. 
She must have guidance, or she's sad." 

(Hunkpati Sioux Indian. The wolf is the prince of 
hunters, and he is notoriously happy.) 

"There was an Indian maiden, stately, full of 
pride, 



io8 TOWARD THE SUN 

And she, like many another maiden, would not 

wed. 
She would not be a bride, tho' faithful mothers 

said 
That in her structure there was no impediment. 
And in her disposition no 'great holiness' 
Precluding her from marrying a chosen mate 
And giving her own flesh and blood and soul to 

babes." 

"So all the people said, 'She must become a 

bride. 
And do a mother's share to populate the tribe, 
The medicine men must humble her and break 

her pride,' 
For when a stripling courted her she tossed her 

head 
And pertly said, T do not wish to be a bride.' 
The medicinemen decided who should marry 

her. 
For with most stately bearing she rejected all, 
And said. 'I will not be a slave to babes.' " 

With oldtime Indians, parents were their chil- 
dren's slaves, 
They gratified their every whim if possible. 



TOWARD THE SUN 109 

They did not scold or ferrule them, or force 

the mind, 
They did not bend the twig to make the tree in- 
clined. 
They simply let them see, and hear, and learn, 

and grow. 
While, as they thought, each younger brood 

would come to know. 
By free, uncramped volition, and Great Spirit's 

help. 
Much more than pleading, wistful ancestors had 

known. 
Yet, as I've seen it, children when grown up 

were kind. 
And in their tender childhood years were well 

behaved. 
They were alert to see and hear and treasure up 
Each most minutest word and custom in their 

race. 
"My father did it so," "My uncle told me so," 
"Our mothers' mothers taught us this, and so 

it's right," 
**A child will see its mother's footsteps in the 

dew 
Before its toddling little feet will leave a track 
With odor in it for the ainmals to follow," 



no TOWARD THE SUN 

"Old people told this story, so we know it's 
true." 

To Indian minds this is the rev-rent end of it, 

While those who've been for years their chil- 
dren's willing slaves 

Are almost worshipped by their children in old 
age. 

''But for a youth or maiden not to wish to be 
A willing slave to offspring is abominable. 
And this proud maiden full of maidenly state- 

liness, 
Must be a slave to babes, or be abominable. 
She must become a bride, or fail to link herself 
With the community in its posterity. 
And yet, by sacred law, her mind must not be 

forced. 
So this dilemma was a task for medicinemen." 

" 'Tomorrow Daydawn she will be my bride,' he 
said, 

'The medicinemen will humble her and she will 
wed.' 

'Twas so. They made the sacred fire and chant- 
ed hymns 

Between the waterspring and this proud maid- 
en's tent; 



TOWARD THE SUN iii 



They beat the tomtom softly while she slept and 
dreamed, 

And while the music with her dreams was soft- 
ly blent, 

Her stately mind toward matrimonial thought 
was bent." 

No one who has not heard the tomtom's native 

thrill 
While he was softly sleeping in the twilight 

hours. 
Can reahze its power to glide into a dream, 
And with its tone to hypnotize a maiden's will. 

**She comes, the stately maiden, and more state- 
ly now, 

She slowly moves along the path' wi-han-mde. 

Her eyes can see, she steps o'er limbs of fallen 
trees ; 

Her heart is quivering with the thought of mat- 
rimony. 

And like the face of sacred Daydawn she is 
smiling. 

For in her morning dream she wished to be a 
bride. 



112 TOWARD THE SUN 

O she's affectionate and she is affable 

As Sprigtime is when broken loose from win- 

tery realms 
And coming full of sunny flowers and singing 

grass. 

And when the stately maiden reached the sacred 

fire, 
While modulated tomtom music charmed the 

air, 
She threw the blanket scanty covering her away 
As thoughtlessly as tottling bearcubs leap and 

play. 
In all her movements, pleasing smiles and 

thoughtless poise. 
There was no word or act to show unchastity. 
And then she danced around the sacred fire five 

times, 
In honor of each one of the five medicinemen 
Who kept her in the e'er increasing wedding 

mood 
With modulated tomtom music soft and clear." 

"And when the time had come for her to give 

consent 
They called her lover hiding out behind a log, 



TOWARD THE SUN 113 

And she did greet him, coming with such 
maid'nly love 

As honest Indian maidens only have and show. 

Then with the stately maiden's full and free 
consent, 

Lest 'wak'ning she might change her mind and 
cast him off. 

He consummated love, as he and she desired. 

With the five honored medicinemen as wit- 
nesses." 

"And then she 'woke, and realized she was a 

bride. 
For if she now recanted from the wedding bond 
She'd be esteemed an outcast and abominable." 

If one can realize the Earth's most pleasing 
dawn 

Transformed into an agonizing charnel house, 

He'll picture to his mind what's quite inade- 
quate 

To tell the change from perfect joy to grim 
despair 

Which overcame this maiden's face and coun- 
tenance 

When she awoke and realized she was a bride. 

4nd yet her ''other self," her inner, truer self. 



114 TOWARD THE SUN 

Had gladly wished it so with full and free con- 
sent; 
Unlike full many a stately cultured maid who 

weds 
A youth among whitepeople for his property, 
Or for his ancestry although he is a runt, 
Blaspheming her true "other self" which shieks 
in protest. 

"She shrieked as March winds shriek when 

Winter tries in vain 
With petty 'second winters' coming to regain 
The flowery summer climate full of pleasing 

sunshine. 
Then tenderly he led her, shrieking, to his tent. 
He had a goodly tent, he was industrious. 
And he loved her with all the ardor in his heart. 
Her shrieking echoed through the forests far 

and wide 
While neighbors 'wakening from their sleeping, 

said: 
*The stately maiden has at last become a bride, 
And it is better so; she must become a bride.' 

And many Indian maidens, yet in tender years. 
With blankets o'er their faces and their quiver- 
ing hearts 



TOWA RD THE SUN i^ 

Were full of shyness when they woke and heard 

her wailing. 
And yet they envied her because her noble mate 
Was far more manly than the mates whom they 

would wed. 

And mothers wept with sympathy, and yet they 

said, 
'It's better she should wed, she must become a 

bride 
And do a mother's share to populate the tribe.' " 

''And ere one moon was passed her pleasing 

matron smile 
Was proof as strong as can be of her happiness. 
And when a baby boy was born to her 
Her smile was like the Daydawn, full of love 

and cheer, 
And in the tribe she did a faithful mother's 

share. 
Her maid'nly stateliness became a mother's 

charm 
For soothing sorrow in full many a mother's 

heart. 
And she it was, they say, who made the sacred 

phrase : 
'A mother's smile is better than a maiden's 
pride.' " 



ii6 TOWARD THE SUN 

"Sleep, baby, sleep and dream, 
Sleep, sleep, dream dream. 
Dream till the prairie rose 
Is pink and morning glows; 
Dream till the creatures of the night 
Are gone and morn is bright. 
Sleep, baby, sleep and dream, 
Baby darling, sleep and dream." 



TOWARD THE SUN 117 

THE MATING DANCE (9) 

(Our Maypole dance is very likely a survival of a Mat- 
ing Dance is goneby ages. Quotations are Indian. The 
thought is entirely Indian.) 

*'A darling day it is today, earth-spirits 'rise 
And woe the waiting spirits in the springtide 

skies." 
Old Indians call this season ''we-tu," Lifetide- 

time. 
It seems to me like poetry that needs no rhyme. 

"The soulful birds are singing lovelore gayety. 
So let us love with earth-and-sky-born purity, 
For springtide, lovetide spirits in the earth and 

air 
Decide to join each couple in a wedded pair." 

"Let old folks join us in the merry lovetide 

mirth 
While holy mother instinct, longing to give birth 
To gleeful little brighteyed offsprings in the 

tribe 
Makes every limping matron feel that she's a 

bride." 

"Ha-ha, best joy of earth, 
Ha, procreation mirth." 



ii8 TOWARD THE SUN 

'Today is lovetide-time for procreation meant; 
The winter-breathing, storm-creating winds are 

spent, 
The springtide, Lifetide earth-and-sky-born 

souls long pent 
With wintertime are with the springtide spirits 

blent." 

"Ho-ho, it's Suntide law that creatures are all 

born, 
The sunflowers, squashes, pumpkins, beans and 

sacred corn; 
Each creature has the selfsame procreation joy, 
A turtle, deer, or bear, a buffalo or boy." 

"By making hearts to other hearts by love in- 
cline. 

Great Spirit makes his world of creatures all 
divine. 

It's all divine, the heart's incline is all divien. 

Great Spirit gives each ardent heart its true in- 
cline." 

"And ravenous wolves cannot pursue the baby 

fawn. 
Whose tiny feet leave tracks as scentless as the 

dawn. 



TOWARD THE SUN 119 

But when a creature gets its mighty limb or 

wing, 
It's scorned unless it is a self-defending thing." 

So tenderest love and coldest cruelty combine 
To make the lovetide Lifetide creatures all di- 
vine. 



120 TOWARD THE SUN 

THE LILAC LADY 

There's a lady apparelled in lilac, tinged 
With a flame like the soul of gold. 

And her wondrous apparel is strangely fringed 
With the Tyrian purple of old. 

In the garden she laughs, but more often she 
weeps, 

And whene'er I approach she is gone; 
So I'm always perplexed with emotions as deep 

As the river of love in the dawn. 

And I know it full well that her strange heart 
desires 
Some atonement I cannot give; 
And she knows it full well that her living re- 
quires 
That myself, the old gardner, shall live. 

"If our lives should be blended," I hear her say, 
"Then the life of the lilac would moan, 

Unless he by some magic can And out the way 
Through the lilac's own life to my own." 



TOWARD THE SUN 121 

There is one thing I've learned from her crue/ 
forfend, 
That the laws of Life-living forbid 
E'en v^ith love to approach, if "they tv^ain" are 
to blend. 
For Life's way is a tertium quid. 

(Note — Indians say, "If husband and wife have their at- 
tention on each other all the time, like geese, it makes a 
split (woskiske). But if both are eagerly attentive to some- 
thing outside of themselves (children, things in nature, etc.) 
it makes harmony (okonwanjila.) 



122 TOWARD THE SUN 

THE BIRD AND THE PUP 

She was bound that her husband should let her 

Belittle his none too great wit. 
She required that her husband should pet her 

While she did not pet him a bit. 

By his nature his love was most zealous. 
Ah, she had no love in her breath, 

And she didn't know how to be jealous, 
But she knew how to starve love to death. 

So the coils of her feelings were inward. 
Her prayers, like the trees, went UP, 

But his worship was earthly and kin-ward. 
And he seemed to her like a pup. 

So unblended their souls grew asunder. 
She did not grow OUT, she grew UP. 

So at last it is hardly a wonder 
That she was a bird, he a pup. 

The loveliest thing in all the earth. 
Surpassingly beyond all mirth. 
Is Love, true Love, immortal Love, 
Which loves just simply 'cause 'tis Love. 



TOWARD THE SUN 123 

THANK GOD FOR WATER (7) 

"Thank God for water, that is free," 
And overlords and deviltry 
Cannot destroy the waterstream 
Where woodland fairies love to dream. 

Men sell their souls in cities, they 
Are worse than asses born to bray 
In cornfields when the dinner horn 
Calls home the freemen plowign corn. 

Don't bray, be brave, they can't kill YOU, 
Or steal the lyric morning dew 
All o'er the glad earth's dewey gown, 
Whate'er o' greed, howe'er they frown. 

Dear ''mother earth," remember me, 
For I can feel your heart of glee 
Still beating softly 'mid the woe 
That crushes men and women low. 

I know a man who stands the test 

In this world's damning strife is blest. 

I know that manliness is best. 

Leave some things to the Lord, and rest. 



124 TOWARD THE SUN 

I'D SOONER 

I'd sooner give a piece of bread 
To an old man before he's dead 
Than sing of that "Sweet Bye and Bye" 
For chosen ones up in the sky. 

I'd sooner help my mother here 
When age and pain bring many a tear, 
Thang sing of "New Jerusalem," 
With many a star and many a gem. 

What is it to be Christian? Just 
To realize in common dust 
And common living deeds and prayers 
The gems which Nature's living wears. 

We long for distant heavenly things 
Because we miss the things nearby, 
But living needs not eagle's wings, 
It's large and broad and deep and high. 



TOWARD THE SUN 125 

CRIED TILL SHE DIED 

(Indian tale) 

The Captain stole a little Indian boy, 
And for his own devil-helping joy, 
He put him onto a speckled pony 
And had him there for a "mascot" crony. 
He gave the boy to his pale-faced bride. 
The boy's own mother cried till she died, 
And weeping made her Indian cheeks swollen. 
Full many a time she called out while dying: 
"Where is my boy? Go tell him I'm crying; 
Tell him to come, for I'm waiting for him, 
My heart, my whole heart, is breaking for him." 



126 TOWARD THE SUN 

THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 

The Whiteman with his belly full, 
The Indian starving, both or which? 
The Indian 'haint no Congress pull," 
And so he is "a son of a witch." 

The fittest men survive? O hell! 
Before the men with firearms came 
Full many a man in many a dell 
Was fit enough, then where's the blame? 

If powder-force be reckoned in 
In weighing fitness, we admit 
Peace-loving men are full of sin. 
Unfit "to suck the Congress tit." 

The strongest men survive, 0-ho! 
The damndest men survive, A-ha! 
For measuring worth and counting sin 
We need a better discipline. 



TOWARD THE SUN 127 

THE MYSTIC CIRCLE (10) 

(Quotations are Indians. The thought is about all Indian) 

Sev'n Indians sitting on '*the holy earth 
That lives for aye while people pass away" 
Were in a mystic circle, silently. 
Around a "sacred rock," lyan Wakan. 
And on the ''sacred rock" were images, 
"Prophetic birds" and ''holy cedar trees," 
And olden villages by waterstreams. 
And dancing people in a merry group, 
And buffalo tracks and many other things. 
All pictures were sincere simplicity. 

And "often when the daytime Sun shines right, 

The faces of these images are bright. 

And when the hither clouds are dark and sad 

The faces of these images are sad. 

"They picture happy days of long ago," 

Ere Indians heard the Whiteman's bugle blow. 

"These images will never fade away, 

God made them and they live for aye and aye. 

Though rocks may crumble into windblown 

dust. 
The faces of these sacred images 
Will reappear on other rocks again." 



128 TOWARD THE SUN 

While pleasing rains and summers come and 

go. 
And winter whirlwinds come with frost and 

snow, 

The faces of these pictures dimmer grow. 

Like distant olden ages, all we see 

Is blent at last with Life'sfTernity. 

And spirits lingering with us for awhile. 
They too go hence with Life's great caravan." 
As with a flower, e'en so it is with man. 

Who mourns for stately cities past and gone? 
Who'll grieve when cities of today are gone? 
The faithful dawn and "holy earth" remain, 
And with simplicity there's less of pain. 

Yet images of birds and waterstreams 
And cedar trees and flowers and villages 
And tracks of animals in dewey grass. 
And dancing people in a merry group. 
All these sweet facial forms appeal to us. 
These are the things that live for aye and aye. 

And if they disappear in windblown dust 
They reappear again on "sacred rocks." 
For Nature's first-born sweet simplicity 
Is everlasting like eternity. 



TOWARD THE SUN 129 

"These images, not made by hmnan hands, 

Are hving souls to testify of God 

And universal immortality. 

They sing their messages with voiceless 'ton.' " 

The Lifetide soulful picture of a man, 

A tree, a flower, a river or a song, 

Or any other creature is its "ton," 

Whose Life-tide music has no need of words. 

Whose soulful heartbeats have no need of love, 

It's Life complete and it is Life for aye. 

But objects disharmonious with Life 
In their false mechanism are void of *f on." 
They tumble down and vanish in decay. 
Though each component part has living "ton" 
Which has full freedom wen the thing grotesque 
Is tumbled down and vanished in decay. 
For "ton" is soulful Life, the Indians say. 

Sev'n Indians in the mystic circle prayed. 
There must be sev'n to make the mystic group, 
Though if a Whiteman has the Indian "ton," 
As Indians think, he may be one of them." 
They prayed: "Thou daytime Sun who passest 

o'er. 
Beholding hither clouds and trees and flowers. 



I30 TOWARD THE SUN 

And birds that fly and souls of creatures gone, 
And men upon the earth, and animals, 
And pleasing summertime, and winter storms, 
And all the countless creatures day by day, 
Bear witness to our minds' sincerity." 

''Enlighten our dark minds with thy pure light 
Till we are perfect light as thou art light; 
So may our souls and bodies no more cast 
Dark shadows parented by us and light." 

"And may the shadows we have parented, 
The ill-made offsprings we have foolish made. 
Because we were not perfect light like Thee, 
May they come back to us ere we go hence. 
May thy come home to us, and blend with us, 
And so with them may we be made complete." 

"Great Spirit, give the souls departed light. 
So when Thou shinest on them they no more 
Will parent shadows following at their heels. 
Enraged at being outcasts from their home, 
Cast out unborn and tepee-less to roam." 

The oldest Indian lit the "sarced pipe," 
Which trembled in his weakly trembling hand. 
And silently he held it toward the Sky 



TOWARD THE SUN 131 

While silent awe betokened silent fear. 
Then with a prayer he held it toward the earth, 
While in his prayer I felt the ''ton" of Love; 
Then toward the West, where souls departing 

go— 
Then came a pause while feelingly they sang: 

There's a beautiful island away in the West, 

It's the land of the evening mirage; 
And the stars and the spirits of deadmen have 
rest 

In the land of the evening mirage. 

In the land of the evening mirage. 

In the land of the evening mirage. 

Where the stars and the spirits of deadmen 
have rest, 

In the land of the evening mirage." 

The big man in the moonlight is peeping for us 
In the land of the evening mirage. 

And the grandmother-spirits are weeping for us, 
In the land of the evening mirage. 
In the land of the evening mirage, 
In the land of the evening mirage. 
Where the grand-mother spirits are weeping 

for us, 
In the land of the evening mirage." 



132 TOWARD THE SUN 

"Speed away, speed away to the island so blest, 
To the land of the evening mirage. 

Where the spirits of deadmen forever have rest 
In the land of the evening mirage. 
In the land of the evening mirage, 
In the land of the evening mirage. 
Where the spirits of deadmen forever have 
rest. 

In the land of the evening mirage. 
Ti-li-li-lee ta-la-la-la-loo, 
Ti-li-li-lee ta-la-la-la-loo, 
K'boo K'boo! 0-he-he-he!" 

Once more he held the pipestem toward the 

West; 
Then toward the North whence mystery comes 

forth; 
Then toward the East whence newness comes 

with change. 
Whence purple Dawn comes forth with light 

and pain; 
Then toward the glorious South, the Sun's vast 

home. 
Where hopeful spirits of compassion roam, 
And with their weakly everlasting might 
For aye implore the creatures of the night. 



TOWARD THE SUN 133 

And dubious shadow-creatures everywhere, 
To blend themselves with purple, painful Dawn 
And thus climb up to light and disappear. 
For "there can be no painless pure delight 
Till day includes the shadows and the night." 

"When praying for men's souls the amber West 
Is honored more than North or East or South; 
The Sky is honored more than lovely earth, 
Because they fear the Sky and love the earth." 
How human 'tis for men to worship more 
The things they fear than better things they 
love ! 

The old man gave the pipe to each in turn 
While each bowed head was praying silently. 
If anywhere there is more reverence 
It's in a world where language is no more. 

It was "Memorial Day" and they would pray 
For men whose facial forms had passed away. 
And in their breadth of catholicity 
They prayed for Whitemen they had known 

and loved. 
And e'en for some who'd been their enemies. 
For "Men must love the trees and animals 
And souls of those who've been their eenmies 
Or else Great Spirit will not hear their prayers." 



134 TOWARD THE SUN 

There is compassion, weakly, timorous, frail. 
Which reckons not the hurtful deeds men do. 
There is true love, a creature born of pain, 
Compulsory, almost impossible. 

For one poor Whiteman grievingly they prayed ; 
The Indians found him sleeping cold and dead, 
When snows were gone and "twinflowers" were 

in bloom. 
They buried him and bade his soul farewell; 
He softly sleeps and no man knows his name. 

These men were Christians, all but one. 
And he was welcome with the rest of them. 
For God "Wakantanka is one for aye. 
And Faith is one all o'er the earth," they say. 

And when they prayed for Indians dead and 

gone 
They used the native oldtime Indian prayers; 
But when they tried to pray for Whitemen's 

souls 
They tried to pray the Whitemen's churchly 

prayers ; 
For "Whitemen do not like our Indian prayers." 



TOWARD THE SUN 135 

Their childlike native catholicity 
Was sweet as flowers are, coming up in May. 
The old man led while others followed him 
A pleasing less than half-tone just behind, 
And what was coming each one's heart divined. 

For Indian souls departed thus they prayed: 
'*Great Spirit, may he be like light in Thee, 
May dubious shadows following him be gone. 
Absorbed in him by Thy pure light in him." 

"And when Thy perfect light. Great Spirit, 

shines 
Upon him may it cast no shadows more 
To follow him forever at his heels 
And hold his spirit back from crossing o'er 
The hither sea to that delightful shore 
Where men have Life and light forever more." 
"May shadows following him while he was in 
This short-lived world of wretchedness and fear 
Become ere long a living part of him. 
So he with them in him will be complete." 

To Indian minds the body dead, ''rwin," 
Is but the smaller part of earthly man; 
The shadows his dark moving form has cast 
Because he was not perfect light like God, 



136 TOWARD THE SUN 

Because he was a silhouette in light, 
And so he parented a shadow brood, 
These are the larger part of what is left 
On earth behind and clinging still to him. 
With outraged angered faces, dark and grim. 
They're hov'ring o'er his grave to bother him. 
These offsprings driven out from him, their 

home. 
In which they had a livign right to dwell. 
Pursue him angrily in life and death. 
Till by the perfect light of God in him 
He calls his "shadow-children" home to him. 
And he must make them all a part of him 
Before his stinted soul can be complete. 
In no way can he rid himself of them; 
They're his and he must call them home to him. 

To Indian minds the "resurrection" means 
The calling home of this ill shadow brood 
So, with them in him, he's in Life complete. 
He needs them, they need him, and light in him 
Will call his ''shadow-children" home to him. 
This 's "resurrection" "Woekicetu." 

And then the sev'n men prayed for that poor 
man. 



TOWARD THE SUN 137 

The "whiteman stranger" they found cold and 

dead. 
When snows were gone and "twinflowers" were 

in bloom, 
And gave him rev'rent burial: thus they 

prayed : 
'*Great Spirit, Thou didst call him from this life 
While he was in our country all alone, 
So we did bury him and weep for him. 
The same as for a blood-born relative. 
And when the springtime comes and "twinflow- 

ers" bloom. 
We strew his grave with flowers like other 

graves. 
Remember how the poor man died alone, 
When winter winds were blowing bitter cold; 
And so. Great Spirit, for the sake of Christ, 
Guide him to his own relatives who're dead. 
And in their city may he have a home 
Where he'll be warm when winter winds are 

cold. 
Don't let him be confused and miss the road 
That leads him where his mother waits for him. 
If he was crazy when he missed the road 
And wandered far away from home to die, 
Restore his mind so he'll be sane and find 
The place w^here his own relatives are kind." 



138 TOWARD THE SUN 

(Can Whitemen, dead or living, hope to find 
A place where they and their own kin are 

kind?) 
They made their prayer according to his creed 
As they supposed this poor man's creed to be; 
Invoking Christ, since whitemen have their 

Christ; 
A city home, since whitemen love such homes. 

Then hushedly, whisperingly, with churchly 

prayers 
As, do their best, they could but poorly do. 
They tried sincerely at a requiem 
For a good Bishop who had gone from them. 
They closed by saying: "May he come to us 
And may we see his kindly face again," 
Then, joining hands, they sang a whispered 

prayer 
In quavering oldtime Indian sacred style; 
Then silently each Indian went his way. 

The original of the song beginning: 
"There's a beautiful island away in the west:" 
Wiyokpeyata iwita waste, 
Ktayetu makoce e e. 
Na wicankp' wicanagi oziiciya 
Ktayetu makoce he el. 



TOWARD THE SUN 139 

Ktayetu makoce he el, 

Ktayetu makoce he el; 

Na wicankp 'wicanagi oziiciya 

Ktayetu makoce he el. 

Wimibe itancan etonunwan lo 

Ktayetu makoce he el; 
Na uncinagipi aceunyan lo 

Ktayetu makoce he el. 

Ktayetu makoce he el, 

Ktayetu makoce he el; 
Na uncinagipi aceunyan lo 

Ktayetu makoce he el. 

Yaya po le wita owaste ekta, 

Ktayetu makoce e e; 
Na wicasanagipi iohiniyan 

Ktayetu makoce he el. 

Ktayetu makoce he el, 

Ktayetu makoce he el; 
Na wicasanagipi iohiniyan 

Ktayetu makoce he el. 
Ti-li-li-lee ta-la-la-loo, 
Ti-li-li-lee ta-la-la-loo, 
K boo, k boo! 0-he-he-he! 

Note— The exact meaning of the trill in the last two lines 
is not now exactly known. The part as far as the first ex- 



I40 TOWARD THE SUN 



clamation point is said to mean ecstatic joy with tomtom 
beating in behalf of a spirit just passing over to the "beau- 
tiful island." The last phrase "o-he-he-he !" is said to ex- 
press the pain felt by one standing on the shore because he 
is not yet sufficiently like Great Spirit, and so cannot pass 
over with the more fortunate one whom he sees passing 
over. By the old Sioux Indian belief, when a person dies 
his spirit (wicanagi) becomes invisible ordinarily, the same 
as a person's "other self" is ordinarily invisible. And yet 
both these do frequently enough become visible, especially 
to certain gifted eyes. At the death if a person's spirit 
(wicanagi) is full of Great Spirit (Wakantanka iojulan), 
as only a few spirits are, it immediately passes over into 
the "beautiful island," which is called also "the land of 
the evening mirage." Once in this "beautiful island" a spirit 
is not in any way confined there. Like Great Spirit, he 
has the complete freedom of the entire world. He may, 
according to desire, go away in sunbeams, in clouds, in 
rains, in flowers, in dewdrops, or in any of the living objects 
and processes in living Nature. He may, according to 
desire, dwell temporarily in animals, birds, plants or men. 
He may, according to desire, change his dwelling place. The 
"beautiful island," then, is hardly as much to him as the 
frontiersman means by the phrase, "old stomping ground." 
Nor is it a "pou sto," to use a Greek phrase; for it is not 
a means to an end, save in a tropical sense. It really means 
a psychic or spiritual state which the person has reached. 
And this psychic state was objectified as "the evening mir- 
age," because they saw this wonderful dramatic "land of 
the evening mirage." In a world where physical objects 
predominate, human beings naturally enough dramatize their 
psychic states and spiritual emotions by objectifying locations. 
Those spirits who are not "full of Great Spirit" do not be- 
come "reincarnate," by Sioux Indian thought; though they 
may dwell temporarily in plants, birds, animals or men to 
some extent, but not entirely according to their desire. Their 
normal status is individual. They may die over again 
numerous times by freezing, starving or in numerous ways. 



TOWARD THE SUN 141 

before they become "full of Great Spirit." It is helpful 
to them to dwell temporarily in living objects, trees, ani- 
mals, men, etc. And, though this indwelling of spirits in 
living objects need not be harmful to these objects, yet it 
may be so if the indwelling spirits are ill-inclined. By In- 
diian thought, a willful suicide cannot dwell in any living ob- 
ject. A suicide, who does his deed willfully, is painless and 
hopeless, sole alone and exclusive. An "aristocrat" all but 
the ability to make others serve him. 



142 TOWARD THE SUN 

YOU MUST WATCH OUT BOTH WAYS 
OR YOU'LL LOSE THE WHEAT 

(An old Teton Sioux Indian told this story of his first 
and only wheat-raising experience so often that it assumed 
literary form. I have tried to translate it so as to preserve 
the feeling and throb and the poetic rythm. This Indian 
liked sugar very much, and he got ■ Sohgrum-seed from the 
south and tried to produce sugar. I have a story he told, 
in literary form, of his experience trying to produce sugar. 
I do not give the name of the Indian, for it might be of- 
fensive to his relatives to do so. Sometimes mischief-making 
whitemen will make Indians believe a writing belittles them 
when the real meaning is the opposite. Lines added to the 
story by me are enclosed in parentheses.) 

"We are living in civilization today. 

You must watch out both ways or you'll lose 

the wheat." 
My good wife made this song, and she sang it 

to me 
When I told her I thought I would try and raise 

wheat. 
And her song made me think, and my thinking 

was strong. 
Till I learned for myself that my thinking was 

wrong. 
When Great Spirit inspires a good woman to 

sing. 
It is well for her husband to listen to her. 



TOWARD THE SUN 143 

She was singing this song when the geese came 

back north, 
And the song that she sang came direct from 

her heart. 
And her singing was sad when I planted the 

wheat, 
But she said: "You're the man, do whatever you 

please. 
It is best for an Indian to cultivate corn. 
And not try like a whiteman to cultivate wheat." 

Now the country had changed and I knew I 
must change. 

The best hunter can't hunt when the hunting 
is gone. 

When the country is changing an Indian must 
change. 

Or he'll be as a fish is left high on the shore 

When the river goes down and the dead wil- 
lows frown. 

So I plowed with my ponies and planted the 
wheat 

While my wife in the garden was planting the 
corn. 

But sometimes when I thought of the old Cus- 
ter days, 



144 TOWARD THE SUN 

And the doublequick faith and the great 

tragedy; 
And the hunting all gone and the old customs 

gone, 
And the dark days ahead for the people to face, 
I sat down on the plow-beam and chanted a 

wail, 
"Wiblukca eca e masica ece," (sung with a 

wail). 
C'The sad thoughts in my spirit are giving me 

pain.") 

My good wife helped me shocking, she kissed 

every shock. 
For I said to her: "Darling, the wheat will buy 

meat. 
I have heard *wheat is gold,' and it's gold that 

buys meat. 
Since the hunting is gone, it is harder to live." 
Then she cautioned me, singing, while helping 

me shock: 
"We are living in civilization today; 
You must watch out both ways, or you'll lose 

the wheat." 
And I sang to console her: "The daydawn will 

come. 



TOWARD THE SUN 145 

For the wheat we are shocking is better than 
corn." 

(The strong mind of an Indian is strict mono- 
rail, 

And to watch out both ways is a hard thing 
to learn 

For a farmer who's trying by tillage to earn 

What his forefathers gathered in autumntide 
moons, 

What kind Nature is willing to give men as 
boons. 

And again, it's the farmer must build up the 
town. 

Or the walls in the cities would all tumble down. 

The quick mind of a woman is gifted to know 
What the future will be, and she knows 'twill 

be so. 
But when "civilization" has muddled her mind 
She has lost half her heart, and she's more 

than half blind. 
And she kisses the shock not because she loves 

wheat. 
But because she wants meat, and wants shoes 

on her feet. 
When it comes to a fast, she's not equal to man. 
And a man can go naked, but she never can.) 



146 TOWARD THE SUN 

My good wife sang again when I started for 

town: 
''We are living in civilization today, 
You must watch out both ways or you'll lose the 

wheat." 
So I sang and I watched on the journey to town, 
For a whiteman might meet me and take all 

the wheat. 
Because God had not given the Indians the seed. 
But Great Spirit had given the Indians seed- 
corn, 
And I felt as a thief feels, an Indian with wheat! 
And I wished ten times o'er that the wheat had 

been corn. 
I watched sharp when I sold it, I counted the 

price, 
It was mazaska (dollars) three tens and one 

more. 
But with dollars from wheat I felt guilty at 

heart, 
And I wished that the dollars were dollars for 

corn. 

Then I bought for my wife two big sacks of good 
flour. 

Then I counted the dollars, and they were sev- 
enteen. 



TOWARD THE SUN I47 



And I said: "I feel guilty with dollars seven- 
teen, 

"Oh, I wish that these dollars were dollars from 
corn." 

Then I bought for my wife a great big piece of 
meat — 

All the meat we could eat while the meat would 
keep sweet. 

Then I counted the mazaska (dollars) just ten. 

And I said: "I feel guilty with dollars from 
wheat, 

Oh I wish that these dollars were dollars from 
corn." 

Then 1 said: 'I'll buy chickens with dollars just 

ten. 
For my wife will like eggs when the meat is all 

gone; 
And it's harder to live since the hunting is 

gone." 
So I covered my wagon with limbs cut from 

trees 
So the chickens I paid for would not fly away; 
And I bought thirteen chickens with dollars just 

ten. 
And I said: "I'm so glad that the dollars are 

gone, 



148 TOWARD THE SUN 

For with dollars from wheat I'm afraid like a 

thief. 
If I live till next summer I'll cultivate corn, 
For with corn I feel manly, and wheat is bad 

luck." 

Then I started for home, singing, Ho-ha-ha-ha, 
For my heart-beats were light when the dol- 
lars were gone; 
And the chickens were like the siho that we had. 
The wild chickens we had in the moons long ago. 
I was whipping the horses to get away quick 
To the grove by the river where I was to camp; 
For in Mandan I couldn't feel I was quite safe 
Where I'd been selling wheat and hadn't sold 
corn. 

As I whirled round a corner the wagon upset. 
And before I half knew it the chickens were 

gone. 
As the leaves blow away in the autumntide 

moon. 
Then my "Ho-ha-ha-ha" becaume "Ho-he-he- 

he." 
(Just one syllable changed and the singing was 

sad.) 



TOWARD THE SUN 149 

And my wife, when she knew it, sang: "Ho-he- 

he-he," 
For I had lost the wheat when the chickens had 

flown. 

Then my wife sang again, and I joined in the 
song, 

"We are living in civilization today; 

You must watch out both ways or you'll lose 
the wheat." 

And I vowed: "I'll not worship the wheat any- 
more. 

Like my wife and Great Spirit I'll worship the 
corn. 



I50 TOWARD THE SUN 

CORNELLA 

Aha, I've found you here, Cornelia, 

And why so silent when I importune 

With all the love my heart can have half crazy 

That you, before this love-tide moon of June 

Is past and gone, will take me for your mate? 

No other flower, though beautiful as you are, 

Arouses love of flowers insatiate 

In me as you do, e'en if one were bluer. 

My love is pure, if "mother-love" is purer; 

If snow is pure, your springtide love is purer. 

This moon grows dark, and she'll not come 
again 

For many a moon. The winter winds will 
sweep 

With sighing snowstorms through this moun- 
tain glen, 

While I, alone, remember her and weep. 

There is one cruel thing I can't forgive her, 
Her heart will not to my fond heart respond 
Howe'er with love my trembling heart does 

quiver; 
And so between us there's no wedding bond. 
Last June I pled with her to take me with her 
Whene'er she went away where'er she went. 



TOWARD THE SUN 151 

In winds, in clouds, in sunshine, anywhither, 
And let my life with her own life be blent. 
She laughed and said : "A flower become a bride 
Of such a winter-breathing man as you are? 
For one short moon we're lovers side by side, 
While wintery whitemen make the flower- 
moons fewer." 
I've heard old Indians say that flowers have 

spirits. 
And men like me, with Indian hearts, believe it; 
For every flower in every glen inherits 
Ancestral life which comes to help or peeve it. 



Note. — ^Indians consider this anemone "miraculous." To 
an Indian, miracle is "Life-transformation," that is the capac- 
ity for disappearing in one facial form and reappearing as 
the identical same person in another facial form. This 
anemone is so capricious, appearing with leaves from four 
to six, and shades of varying white or purplish 
(and yet the same flower), that it is considered "miraculous." 
A young Indian rejected in love often lets one of these 
appealing flowers fully impersonate to him the one he loves. 
This poem is substantially what a young Indian sang to 
one of these flowers in a glen in the Turtle Mountains, 
North Dakota. The glen had been filled with winter snows 
which were not all melted away in "June-moon-time." Be- 
side the snow grew these flowers, and, with his heart ab- 
sorbed in one of them, this young Indian sang his love, while 
the flower fully impersonated (more than symbolized) to 
him the maiden he loved. 

Dr. Gilmore tells me this flower I am speaking of is the 
Cornus canadensis, not an anemone. 



152 TOWARD THE SUN 

OLD NEIGHBOR MINE 
Old neighbor mine, pray do not try to see a man 
Behind the verses I have written, for their plan 
Is not the picture of a man. As best I can 
I've tried to scan Life's runeful sea, including 

man. 
Ah, Life- tides leaping every v^here with joy and 

pain! 
What's universal, do you think it is in vain? 

The trees and mountains, earth and sky and 

sunny plains 
Appreciate the winter snows and summer rains. 
And in them, with them I have tried to see and 

feel 
The Life-tides in the Father-God and brother- 

de'il. 

What have you seen? So much have I that I've 

no fear 
When facial forms of all I see and hold so dear 
Are changing like the summer leaves in autumn 

garb. 
I've plunged and found that dying has no sting 

or barb. 
For Life, that's "you and me," is a kaleidoscope. 
The more of change the more of what is more 

than hope. 



TOWARD THE SUN 153 

Though facial forms are swept away in one 

short hour, 
Yet Life, "that's you and me," is more than one 

sweet flower. 

So, neighbor, do not try by man-made rules to 

scan 
The verses I have written. They are not a man. 
And I do feel I'm not a man, but some live part 
Of Life's tremendous runeful sea whose living 

heart 
Is in the living cataract and living dew, — 
Great Life-tide sea, forever old, forever new! 

And when you see the daydawn, that is "you 

and me." 
And when you hear the treetoad trilling in a 

tree. 
Or see the Indian children playing full of glee, 
Or birds' nests in the apple tree, that's "you 

and me." 
Two lovers in the moonlight walking side by 

side 
With ardent joys and bitter tears for groom and 

bride 
That's "you and me," old neighbor mine, with 

joy and pain. 



154 TOWARD THE SUN 

The more we live, the more we weep, the more 

we gain, 
Unless a man or beast does his own tether strain 
His timorous neighbor's cultured garden patch 

to gain. 
It's Life in all Life's facial forms, that's "you 

and me," 
A wondrous wrought community. Life's runeful 
sea. 

What is — Truth? Spontaneous living, bold and 
free; 

Free-hearted living large as God is, pain and 
glee; 

Man-living strong as Life is in Life's runeful sea. 

Hard-hit the world is! Hireling hammers can- 
not rivet 

Free Life to rocks, once reverent men will dare 
to live it. 

He spoke once more, old Indian. "Friend, I'm 
cold," he said; 

"Please bury me in your fur coat when I am 
dead." 

I did it as he wished it done, old neighbor mine. 

And for the beaver-coat my heart does not re- 
pine. 



TOWARD THE SUN 155 

"It is Life in Life-forms, not man, 
Leads onward Life's caravan." 
("Wiconi, na wicasa he e sni, 
Mdotahunke ece.") 



156 TOWARD THE SUN 

THE SONG OF THE TWINFLOWER 

The oldtime Western Sioux Indians sang songs to most 
any object in Nature, as well as to flowers. And some of 
these objects, including the Twinflower {Pulsatilla hirsutis- 
sima), are believed to sing songs. The following is the 
Twinflower's song. Why this song, rather than others, is 
given here will be seen from the note following the song. 

THE SONG 

I wish to encourage the children 

Of the Flowerpeople now coming up 

All over the face of the earth; 

So while they awaken from sleeping 

And come up from the heart of the earth 

I am standing here, old and grayheaded. 

Note. — In North Dakota this flower is the first to come 
up in springtime. On first seeing it an old Indian holds his 
pipe reverently to the Earth, the Sky, the North, the East, 
the South, the West. Then he plucks the flower and carries 
it home, singing this song as he heard it in childhood, when 
this flower first came up. The smoke from the pipe is a 
sacred adoration of the Life-Deity who will soon appear 
in countless facial Life-forms. Since Indians have learned 
of Jesus they associate the coming of the flower with Easter- 
tide, when Jesus rose from the dead. To Indians the re- 
appearance of Life in a flower or any object after it has 
once ceased to be visible is "Woekicetu" (Resurrection, Res- 
toration), which is, as they think, miraculous. To all In- 
dians I knew each new Daydawn is Miraculous, Resur- 
rection. The Western Sioux Indians, and many others, be- 
lieve a man gains new and holy Life by bathing his naked 
person in the first rays of the rising Sun. They live in a 



TOWARD THE SUN 157 

world of Life. In this world of Life, any Life-selftrans- 
formation by which a Life-being passes from one facial form 
where it has dwelt into another facial form, is miracle. That 
is their idea of miracle. It is the capability of a Life-being 
to assume various Life-forms. 



158 TOWARD THE SUN 

PATHOS 

(This is substantially what an Indian woman said in a 
report on returning from visiting many Indian Episcopalian 
and other churches in South Dakota, where the ministers are 
Lay Readers or Deacons or Catechists. Not quite sure of 
themselves, such native ministers are at times officious, and 
when so, the people make it disagreeable for them. The last 
stanza is the woman's exact words. The line "For the 
Churchmen are living in town," is my own. The woman 
called all these ministers priests.) 

The most damnable (sica) pathos I know 

Is the life of full many a priest. 

He has seen part of Heaven : hence his faith. 

For believing's believing for aye 

Howe'er sinning may lead one astray. 

Oft his fight for the right pulls him down 
For the fight is with bad men who frown, 
And delight more in lies than in Heaven. 
And the world we now have is too harsh 
For a man who has seen part of Heaven. 

In the fire of the conflict ill-starred 

Oft he feels that his body is charred; 

And sometimes, heavy-hearted with pain, 

He half-knows that his soul is half-damned 

(sica). 
Yet he must live with bad men who frown 
For the Churchmen are living in town. 



TOWARD THE SUN 159 

He endures, a brave man for a while, 
And he carries his load with a smile. 
But his smile has a shadow of woe, 
For his heartbeats are getting too slow. 

Yet however he sins in the fight. 

In the fight all in vain for the right, 

He has seen part of Heaven — hence his grief. 

Now a layman is saved by belief 

But a priest is condemned by his faith; 

So a priest is a bird who is damned (sica) 

For the sake of the birds who will fly. 

And the worth of the birds and the cost 

Is that many a priest's soul is lost. 



i6o TOWARD THE SUN 

WEATHER SIGNS 

(Indian) 
"If wildcats in the treetops leap and play. 
If bronchos uphill, downhill speed away, 
No matter how serene the sunny air is 
You'll see the pranks of weather-making fairies 
(iktomi). 
There'll be a windstorm; stake the tent." 

"If birds that chirp in wintertime are silent 
If rabbits hide away and wolves are violent. 
No matter how the noonday sun is shining 
Storm-spirits in the wintery sky are whining, 
Get ready for a blizzard, close the tent." 

"If snakes lift up their heads and gaze about. 
If sullen bullfrogs snuff the air and pout. 
If little whirlwinds toss the dust and leaves, 
If heaviness your tedious breathing grieves, 
The thunderbird is coming, pray for 
mercy." 

"If summer clouds are drooping near the 

ground. 
If nervously they're bobbing round and round. 
If they are tinged with gray and cactus-green, 
If like gray wolves their disposition's mean. 
Get ready for a cyclone, God have mercy." 



TOWARD THE SUN i6i 

"If you can see the morning meadow lark 
Arising, circling upward through the dark 
Gray mists of dawn and circling back again 
With melody for animals and men, 

Get ready for the journey, strike the tent." 

Note. — From hundreds of similar weather signs I have 
selected these few. 



i62 TOWARD THE SUN 

HITHER AND YON 

Something to eat, something to wear, some- 
where to sleep, 

Down on the earth, up in the air, out in the 
deep. 

This the mad call, cursed or blest, leading us on, 

Murderers all seeking for rest hither and yon. 

Let me alone, please let me wear my own white 

vest 
Mother gave me, splendid and fair, ere I was 

drest. 
Life still is free, in the wild deep, in earth and 

air; 
Life is Life's food. Life is Life's sleep, Life 

without care. 
Life is so large I can't see room for death and 

hell; 
Life everywhere plying the loom in every dell. 
Let me alone, I must be free; let me have breath, 
Please let me starve, I must be free in life and 

death. 

Note. — Pitiful Japan, borrowing from China a culture 
that suits her people, then discarding it for "western cul- 
ture," which does not suit her people ! Japan will *'get into 
the game" and "conquer" a few peoples, perhaps. 

China has been '"conquered" many times in past genera- 
tions. And, as growing trees and grass and flowers cover 



TOWARD THE SUN 163 

and obliterate trails I have seen in the woods, so human 
growth in China has swallowed up her "conquerors," and 
covered the trails they made in her spontaneous Life-growth. 

Life and Time are the great and good old gods that do 
all things well. The "Christianity," invented in its phrase- 
ology and ruling ideas when Europe was passing from 
Feudalism into our impossible Commercialism, is not likely 
to sing songs of victory in China, even if Japan equivocally 
adopts it to help her "get into the game." China, loving 
what is her own, is likely to last when other nations are 
gone; even as the Vatican adapting itself to aborigines and 
not yanking men too hard, is likely to last when other 
churches are gone. Petty "caterpillars" and "kaiserkrupps !" 
Life will obliterate their tracks. A future humanity will 
see that such things are foolish. The best murderers, then 
the best among the best murderers to survive, etc. This is 
the ad Quern of "civilization." The true conquest is Life- 
conquest, oddly called "passive resistance," and "nonresist- 
ance." It is the unanswerable resistance. Yet at present 
among us whitemen about the only way people get really 
well acquainted with each other is by fighting together. 



i64 TOWARD THE SUN 

NO HOT AIR 

(Borrowed) 

The militia are coming to Mexico 
From Dakota and Texas and everywhere, 
When it comes to a showdown in Mexico 
You will see the militia are not hot air. 

No hot air, no hot air, 

A square deal everywhere. 

A square deal for the flag down in Mexico, 
A square deal for America everywhere; 
When it comes to a showdown in Mexico 
You will see the militia are not hot air. 

No hot air, no hot air, 

A square deal everywhere. 

When we got tap-tap-tap down to Mexico, 
Give us beef and hot coffee and khaki to wear; 
When it comes to a showdown in Mexico 
You will see the militia are not hot air. 

No hot air, no hot air, 

A square deal everywhere. 



Note. — Militiamen were trying to extemporize a song. 
I liked it, so "snapped it up" and finished it up. And this 
is the song. A man who can see and hear and "snap up" 
folk-wisdom and folk-songs is likely to find community- 
thinking and race-thinking better than his own thinking. 



TOWARD THE SUN 165 

Possibly a man does not do much good thinking till he be- 
comes an alert observer of community-thinking and com- 
munity-feeling. Indians say : "If a man sees and realizes 
Nature enough, his brain (nasu) works correctly without 
effort. Otherwise his brain cannot work correctly." 



i66 TOWARD THE SUN 

SPIRIT OF LIFE 

Spirit of Life in things above 

And lovlier in things below, 
We pray to Thee, All-Being-Love (Wacantkiye) 

Spontaneous in our hearts to grow. 

Our Father-Life, we live in Thee 
And pray for glory which is Thine, 

And by our living may we be 
As Thou art in the Life divine. 



The trees and flowers and watersprings 
Are singing good old songs of mirth. 

So may we sing while music brings 
The good old joy o'er all the earth. 

Spirit of Life, sing on, sing on; 

Sing till our aching hearts find rest 
And anxious fear is past and gone. 

And like the rivers we are blest. 

The earth is singing, hark the song; 

The whispering breezes floating by, 
The waterstreams gliding along. 

Reflecting faces in the sky. 



TOWARD THE SUN 167 

Spirit of Life, we worship Thee 

With waterstreams and trees and flowers; 
So may our new-born spirits be 

As Thou art, and Thy glory ours. 



Note. — This is the substance of a prayer I heard an old 
Indian make after he had bathed in the water and was stand- 
ing on a hill, James A. Huston, in old times Adjutant Gen- 
eral of Dakota Territory, once said to me : "I never heard 
anything more eloquent than prayers of old Indians orating 
after they had baptized themselves in a river." No doubt 
there was something of anxiety in the old Indian living, 
though Indians were not greatly inclined to worry. The 
compulsory breaking-up of their old civilization gave pain 
and anxiety to some of the more thoughtful ones. The term 
"Woniya," I have translated Life. It means breath in a man 
or animal or plant as well as Life in everything everywhere. 
It is the basal concept in the Sioux idea of Deity. 

No one ever believed more fully in the possibility of a 
"new-born spirit" (called also a "new-born heart"), than 
did the old Western Sioux Indians. I mention particularly 
these Indians because I have studied them. But I am aware 
that many other Indians, if not all Indians, had this same 
idea. A minister of the Gospel asked me recently: "How 
do you reconcile this with the teaching that the 'new-birth' 
comes through the sacrifice of Christ?" A field observer 
does not have to reconcile things. He reports what he 
finds, even though the things he finds are not always recon- 
cilable with each other. I should say, from what I know, 
that this idea in many parts of the world precedes the time 
of Jesus by many generations. And how should this fact 
lessen a man's adoration and worship of Jesus, who did the 
hard task of leading hardhearted men in a false civilization 
to realize this old Life-fact to some extent? 



i68 TOWARD THE SUN 

YOU'LL HAVE T' SHOW ME 

In the floating ethereal cloud, 

In the gliding, inviting blue sea. 
If there's death anywhere and a shroud 

Winding aught from Life's world which is 
free, 

You'll have V show me. 

In the rhythmical leaves that we see, 
In the eyes that look out from the snow, 

If there's death in their anthem of glee. 
In their music that's soulful and low. 
You'll have t' show me. 

There are weapons and woundings that grin, 
Mocking Life in the earth and the sky, 

But if Life that forever has been 
Is not Life that's unable to die. 
You'll have t' show me. 

If true piety is not for aye, 

The Life-glory that has been for aye. 

And if lowliness is not for aye. 
All Infinity's vastness for aye? 
You'll have t' show me. 

Note. — Realizing Life in Nature, the Indian feels him- 
self blent with Life, and immortal. He never thought of 
doubting "immortality," which is to him campulsory. 



TOWARD THE SUN 169 



UNIVERSAL ONE 

Now and then amid the strife 
Agonizing comes the Man, 

Son of God, Spirit of Life, 
Universal One, lead on. 

Finite weakness of our race. 
Limitation, pain and death; 

Infinite with love and grace. 
Universal One, lead on. 

Life in man and all, lead on, 
Bravely may y^;:^llow on; 

Mindful where the light has shone. 
Worshipping, we follow on. 

Agony is in his face. 

Dearer to us for the pain, 

Telling us of love and grace; 
Universal One, lead on. 



I70 TOWARD THE SUN 

AN ESSAY ON SAVAGES 
"Savages are a fictitious class of beings such 
as men of tlie scliolastic class imagine they 
themselves would become if they were divested 
of conventional clothing and of the numerous 
other things of which they have become more 
conscious than of the things that are essential 
to life and happiness. By men of the scholastic 
class I mean men of the university class and 
people in general who, being educated in the 
public schools, have but scant knowledge of 
living Nature and of man's relations to living 
Nature and the Creator, and to each other; but 
have a certain arbitrary teaching which is dis- 
harmonious with Nature and with the Creator. 
Such people are ruled largely in their living, 
thinking and feeling, by notions rather than by 
facts. This class of people will ''die hard," but 
they are passing away, whoever is coming to 
take their place. And as they pass away the 
scholastic conception of "Savages" is also pass- 
ing away, and we are beginning to realize that 
there are profound social lessons to be learned 
from primitive peoples. 

Men may have the noblest of cultural ideals 
without scholastic training, while in university 
circles, removed from Nature and the Creator, 



TOWARD THE SUN 171 

sacred Life-concepts may become weakened or 
entirely gone. There is no substitute for Nature. 
Primitive men live heart-to-heart with Nature. 
Children must live in the same way or become, 
when grown up, a destructive element in human 
society. Living (not doing), is the key to 
knowledge. I have seen this among so called 
''Savages." Living in and with Nature men 
learn to live in and with the Creator. This can 
be learned at first hand in no other way. 
"Science" in books cannot teach it, but obliter- 
ates the capacity for it. Our scholastic educa- 
tion, removed from Nature and the Creator as 
it is in America, is destructive of all that is best 
in human beings. 

What we need most of all is facts and the 
vivid realization of the meaning of facts, and 
our relation to these facts as living human be- 
ings. 

It is not so much the number of facts quan- 
titatively as the meaning of facts qualitative- 
ly that helps human culture. The half, realized 
qualitatively, is equal to the whole. The whole, 
but half realized qualitatively, is much less than 
the half. 

My teacher of zoology in college had a con- 
ventional way of stating things "scientifically." 



172 TOWARD THE SUN 

Yet I could not see then and cannot see now that 
he had much idea of the Life-meaning of the 
facts he stated. He had not lived in and with 
Nature. Many an old Indian knows ten times 
more zoological facts than he knew. And, in 
an unconventional way, he realizes quite well 
the Life-meaning of these facts, and their im- 
portance to human beings. 

Once I mentioned a certain flower to a botan- 
ist. I gave the Indian descriptive name of the 
flower, as I did not know the scholastic "botani- 
cal" name. I translated into English this In- 
dian descriptive name of the flower. I said: 
"Chan-kdo-ku-ape-kho-ta means stocky-plant- 
for physic-given-spikey-flowers-many-gray- i n - 
color." The botanist said, with some scholastic 
impatience : "Why, that in no way identifies the 
flower. I do not know from that description 
what it is." Well, the Indian descriptive name 
of the flower so identified it to an Indian that 
he would know the flower, and know its rela- 
tion to human needs. After this I tried an ex- 
periment. Out on the prairie with an Indian 
boy 10 years old, I pointed to some twenty flow- 
ers and said: "Go and get me chan-ape-kho- 
kho-ta (I omitted the "kdo-ku" because the lad 
was rather young for his first lessons in medical 



TOWARD THE SUN i73 



education). With this descriptive name of the 
flower the alert little fellow selected the correct 
flower, the stocky-plant-spikey-flowers-many- 
gray-in-color. The trouble with our scholasti- 
cism is that, not living in and with Nature and 
the Creator, it is not alert. It is dull. It is not 
living, it is dead. 

I have sometimes eaten in a circle of old In- 
dians with no table or table utensils. Not even 
spoons, the fundamental and most necessary 
conventional table tools. And I have realized 
how naively dexterous and graceful the human 
hand is before it becomes the awkward slave 
of table tools. As long as food is sacredly 
precious to us we incline to handle it delicately 
with the fingers. With the conception of the 
sacredness of food gone, one inclines to handle 
it with a fork. Even among ''Americans," where 
so many things are unnatural and irreligious, 
I never saw a mother handling her baby in a 
bath-tub with a fork. Because the baby is 
sacred and precious to her she inclines to 
handle it with her bare hands, similarly as the 
Holy Communion is most reverently and prec- 
iously given and received with ungloved hands. 
I have eaten with oldtime white "frontiersmen" 
with no table, and few table utensils, and have 



174 TOWARD THE SUN 

noticed a simple and charming dexterity in 
etiquette similar to that among old Indians. 
And this recalls to me, with meaning beyond 
what the author intended, the famous chapter 
of the philisopher Lotze on "The Hand." 

At a dinner under such conditions university 
men would lose what they have of "civiliza- 
tion," and their rudeness would become unen- 
durable to Indians and "frontiersmen." While 
an Indian was ''saying grace" in the oldtime 
way, their faces would hardly wear a soulful 
heavenly smile for blessings, and they might 
wear a devilish grin. I have seen such grins 
when in my simple precious home I have (on 
inquiry) told a guest that I had no looking glass, 
or comb, or spoons. Regardless of "creeds," or 
no "creeds," it is necessary, first of all, to ap- 
preciate reverence which, to a right-minded 
man, is inseparable from Life and Home. 

The origin of the concept of "Savagery" seems 
to be precisely this, viz. : Scholastic people are 
conscious of something large and fearful in 
themselves, tending to degeneracy and decay. 
And they feel that this indescribable something 
threatens the destruction of the human race — at 
least the scholastic class of the human race, the 
class only of which they are really conscious. 



TOWARD THE SUN 175 

And they objectify this sense of "Savagery" in 
themselves by positing a fictitious group of peo- 
ple somewhere, such as never existed anywhere 
— Montesque and others notwithstanding. Mon- 
tesque never saw any of the "Savages" which 
he describes. Nor did any other man ever see 
them, save "at a safe distance," and through 
the eyeglasses of misconception. Yet it is lit- 
tle wonder that Montesque and others have 
posited such "Savages," for in their own coun- 
tries and among their own people they have 
felt savage terrors which required the posit- 
ing of "Savages" such as they describe. There 
was in very real existence an indescribable and 
terrific "Savagery" which they must in some 
way depict and dramatize. But this "Savagery" 
is not in primitive peoples. It is in the "civil- 
ized" peoples and the "cultured" peoples. 

Among primitive men this element of "Sav- 
agery" is small and harmless. I know this. I 
have lived with peoples who were called "Les 
Sauvages." And with knowledge thus gained I 
have scrutinized and properly discounted what 
has been written regarding other similar peo- 
ples. The "Savages" are not the people in the 
far islands, we are the "Savages." 

Not long ago I read a lecture on "Miracles" 



176 TOWARD THE SUN 

by an able university professor. His able and 
questionable ratiocination was based on the as- 
sumption that under such and such conditions 
Indians would think, feel and act so and so. 
But I had lived with Indians years enough to 
know that under "such and such conditions" 
they did not ''think, feel and act so and so," at 
all. Many years ago I listened to an able lec- 
ture by one of Andover's ablest men, proving 
that a certain document, said to have been writ- 
ten two centuries and a half ago, was never 
written, and was not in existence. The lecture 
did not convince me, precisely because at that 
very time I had in my possession the original 
document and was making a transcription of 
it for publication. Such is our scholastic pub- 
lic-school education. It is out of harmony with 
the facts in Nature and in the Creator. It is 
our "Savagery." And when the scales of tremb- 
ling justice do but slightly ill- tip, all the "sav- 
agery' in us is let loose, and we see that the 
"hordes of barbarians" are the scholastic and 
''cultured peoples." 



TOWARD THE SUN 177 



APPENDIX 

Dr. Beede has asked me to write some com- 
mientary notes on some of the poems he has 
here published, relative to Indian life and 
thought, and I feel especially complimented by 
this invitation because, in my acquaintance with 
him I have found him to have an appreciation 
and sympathetic understanding of Indian 
thought and feeling which is exceedingly rare 
among whitemen. 

Without either casting the Indian under a 
cloud of derogation or investing him with a halo 
of impossible idealization, he simply meets him 
and thinks of him as a man. Because of this 
quality in the author of the present publica- 
tion, I feel it an honor to participate in this 
book to the extent of the notes herewith offered. 

Melvin R. Gilmore. 



TOWARD THE SUN 



NOTE 1— Animals. 

Europeans in America (Americans as we call 
ourselves) seem to have sentimental feelings for 
the animals and plants which they brought here 
with them from Europe, and not the same sen- 
timental feelings for the native American ani- 
mals and plants. And while this is natural 
yet it is a pity for a people not to be so attached 
to the country in which they live that their sen- 
timental feelings will be first of all for the forms 
of life that are native to their country. Other- 
wise there is a disharmony which lessens hap- 
piness and is harmful in many ways. 

With this lack of sentimental feelings for the 
plants and animals native to America there has 
been a tendency to destroy these things in a 
ruthless manner. And this can hardly be pre- 
vented by laws unless we can awaken senti- 
mental feelings for the native forms of life in 
America like that which our ancestors had for 
native forms of life in Europe. 

Indians, the native Americans, seem to have 
sentimental feelings, and even sacred feelings 
for the forms of life native to America, while 
not having the same consideration for plants 
and animals that have been brought here from 
Europe. There is one exception to this state- 
ment. They seem to have the same sentimental 
feelings for the horse as for animals native to 
America. They have had the horse so long, and 
lived with this animal so intimately that it 



TOWARD THE SUN 179 

seems to them like one of their native animals. 
So they use the horse as a foundation for per- 
sonal names, as White Horse, His-horse-walk- 
ing, Holy Horse, etc., just as the wolf, the bear, 
the elk, the buffalo and many other native ani- 
mals were used. 

I once asked an old Omaha what was the 
feeling of Indians when they saw the whitemen 
wantonly killing buffaloes. At once he dropped 
his head and was silent for a moment, seeming 
to be overcome with sadness; and as though he 
felt ashamed of the human race, in a low 
voice he said: "It seemed to us a most wicked, 
awful thing." 

It is difficult for a whiteman to feel the sense 
of pain which the Indian felt at seeing the na- 
tive forms of life in America ruthlessly de- 
stroyed with no compunction on the part of the 
destroyers. And this destruction of the forms 
of life in America by whitepeople gave the In- 
dian a sense of a fearful void in nature, coupled 
with a feeling of distress and pain. It was not 
fundamentally the thought of the loss of their 
food supply, for agricultural Indians who were 
able to live without the native animals seem 
to have had these feelings the same as more 
nomadic Dakota Indians felt and realized them. 

White Horse, an old man of the Omaha tribe 
in Nebraska, said to me (August, 1913) : "When 
I was a youth the country was beautiful. Along 
the rivers were belts of timberland, where 



i8o TOWARD THE SUN 

grew cottonwoods, maples, elms, oaks, hickory 
and walnut trees, and many other kinds. Also 
there were various vines and shrubs. And un- 
der all these grew^ many good herbs and beau- 
tiful flowering plants. On the prairie was the 
waving green grass and many other pleasant 
plants. In both the woodland and the prairie 
I could see the trails of many kinds of animals 
and hear the cheerful songs of birds. When I 
walked abroad I could see many forms of life, 
beautiful living creatures of many kinds which 
the Master of Life had placed here; and these 
were, after their manner, walking, flying, leap- 
ing, running, feeding, playing all about. Now 
the face of all the land is changed and sad. 
The living creatures are gone. I see the land 
desolate, and I suffer an unspeakable sadness. 
Sometimes I wake in the night and I feel as 
though I should suffocate from the pressure of 
this awful feeling of loneliness." 

Indians keenly observed the life and habits 
of animals and plants. This observation was 
minute and accurate, though it was empirical 
and poetic more than scientific. This careful 
study of plants and animals was a considerable 
part of their system of education, which includ- 
ed much more than we might suppose. They 
knew the habits of animals as they roam about 
and their habits as members of com- 
munities in their homes. An old Indian 
once told me how a muskrat lays up 



TOWARD THE SUN i8i 

his food on shelves in his house, simi- 
larly as a grocer has canned goods on the 
shelves in a store. Many old Indians have de- 
scribed to me what foods each of the animals 
who lays up foods has in his house, and how he 
keeps these foods. Many Indians, both men and 
women, have told me of the habits of the vole 
in storing up food. The Omahas have a saying: 
"The vole is a very industrious fellow, he even 
helps human people." This refers to the fact 
that the Indians help themselves to a part of the 
stores of a certain wild bean which the voles 
put away for their own use. Indian women look 
for the vole stores, take away part of the beans, 
and put in their place a quantity of corn or 
other food in exchange. They think of animals 
as having great wisdom. This comes from ob- 
serving their doings and their ways of living. 
They seem to think that the beaver is the wis- 
est of animals. They hope to gain the favor 
and to learn the wisdom of each animal species 
by sentimental feelings akin to worship for the 
god or genius of each species. The wolf-genius 
was the patrons of hunters. 

^ NOTE 2. 

When with Indians (Omahas, Pawnees, 
Dakota, Arikaras and others) I have felt 
a sense of freedom such as one does 
not so fully feel among white peo- 
ple. No one seems to mind or care 



i82 TOWARD THE SUN 

how individual a person may be in his habits 
and ways of doing things, so long as he respects 
the Indian fixed customs in fundamental tribal 
matters, and does not offend the Indian sense 
of justice and etiquette. The Indian idea is 
that whatever pertains to one's self personally 
he is to do according to his own personal tastes 
and likings. If an Indian takes notice how an- 
other man is doing this or that it is not with any 
feeling of criticism but with the idea of learn- 
ing whether or not there is anything for him 
to learn from his neighbor. 

The whiteman's disposition to look into, if 
not to dictate the affairs of neighbors is not 
characteristic of Indians. In general one may 
do as he pleases among Indians without any 
fear of becoming a gazingstock. 

From racial experience they seem to have 
differentiated between the affairs that pertain 
to one's own self and the affairs that naturally 
pertain to the tribe, and to its posterity. And 
no one seems to feel any infringement upon 
his liberty in being expected to conform to 
tribal laws in those matters that concern the 
tribe and its posterity, though he would keenly 
feel any attempt at dictation in his personal 
affairs. 

This method of living seems to have come 
from a gradual and natural individual and 
community growth, rather than from the mak- 
ing of laws, while the people have so adjusted 



TOWARD THE SUN 183 

themselves to the system that each one feels 
a remarkable sense of freedom and liberty. It 
does not seem to occur to anyone not to allow 
another the same freedom which he exercises 
himself. And this complete consciousness of the 
rights of another, as well as the rights of one's 
self, seems to be an historic life-principle with 
Indians, or it was so before it was in some cases 
impaired by the introduction of a new civiliza- 
tion which is not harmonious with their abor- 
iginal culture. It does not seem to spring from 
philosophical reasoning or from the considera- 
tion of the effects of this and that upon the wel- 
fare of the community, but from habitual ways 
of living for many generations. While among 
Indians I have felt that laws and customs, in 
order to be at their best for a people, should be 
discovered by human living rather than by phil- 
osophic processes of reasoning. 

NOTE 3— Health From Nature 

Pawnee Indians have a hymn beginning, "Be- 
hold the rays of our Father-Sun." Indians be- 
lieved that health came immediately from na- 
ture by direct contact of one's person with the 
elements in nature, such as the sunshine, the 
rain and snow, the air and the earth. With In- 
dians whatever tends to health is "clean." In- 
tentionally they sought as much physical con- 
tact as possible with the earth, and with the ele- 
ments in nature. Whatever seemed to an In- 



i84 TOWARD THE SUN 

dian inimical to health was to him unclean. 
They desired to bathe the person in the rays 
of the sun and the rains because this was 
healthy and cleanly. They consider that cloth- 
ing is made healthy, and so cleanly, by expos- 
ing it to the clear sunshine. An Indian will, if 
very hungry, eat the carcass of a dead animal, 
because he has found out by experience how 
to so prepare the food that it is not inimical 
to life. But to throw it into a waterstream from 
which some tribes downstream will drink is 
repugnant to an Indian's sense of cleanliness, 
and it is sacrilegious to him because living wa- 
ter is sacred. Many a whiteman has grieved 
and angered an Indian by practices which were, 
as he thought, uncleanly because unhealthy. 

NOTE 4— Unkind Houses 

While there are fixed types of handicraft 
among Indians, yet there is distinct individual- 
ity in the things made by each person. Show a 
piece of porcupine quill work to Indians and 
they will often say that such a person made it, 
for it is her work. The untrained whiteman's 
eye might not see any difference between this 
particular piece of work and some other pieces. 
Indians feel that something from each person's 
life goes into whatever he makes and into what- 
ever he has used in intimate connection with 
his person. 

So, when an Indian dies, without previously 



TOWARD THE SUN 185 

bestowing his more intimate personal belong- 
ings, as gifts to friends (such things as his 
clothes, pipe, bow and walking-stick — if he has 
one) these strictly personal effects are either 
buried with him or burned. These things are 
so fully a living part of his person that when 
he is gone there is no way, by Indian thought, 
of conferring honest title to them to another 
person, and so it would be ill-luck or irreligious 
for another person to have them or to use them. 

Property of less intimate nature, such as 
horses, saddles, blankets and many other things 
of general use, are distributed among the dead 
man's relatives and friends or given to the poor- 
er people in the community. Giving a friend 
anything of a strictly personal nature previous 
to his death, such as a pipe, confers an honor 
upon the friend, and is supposed to confer upon 
him a part of the giver's life which is in the 
present. 

Personal property such as was of general use 
had not taken on the life-personality of the own- 
er as things more intimate to his person had 
and so such things were not completely imbued 
with his personality. A tent was not properly 
owned by a person, but by a family, yet the in- 
timate life-relations between the tent and the 
family made its ownership by the family com- 
plete, similarly as an individual owns complete- 
ly his more intimate belongings. 

So when a man who is the head of the family 



i86 TOWARD THE SUN 

dies, the ownership of the tent vests in an heir, 
if there is an heir. If there is no heir and if 
the owner has not bestowed the tent upon a 
friend while living, it is wrapped around him 
when he is buried or else it is burned. For an 
interloper to have the tent would be an out- 
rage against the dead man whose life-person- 
ality is in the tent. A tent obtained by such 
means would bring misfortune to its posses- 
sor. 

NOTE 5— Woman 

By Indian conception man has his place in 
a community and woman has her place, and 
these places are not to any extent interchange- 
able. And this goes back to the idea that the 
female and the male are reciprocally comple- 
mentary in all the world of life. Indians had 
no idea that one sex was superior or inferior 
to the other in the sense of being better or 
worse. Women were superior in women's af- 
fairs and men were superior in men's affairs. 
Men did not interfere in women's affairs. It 
did not occur to them to attempt to do so. Nor 
did women interfere in men's affairs. If a man 
be asked for information which he may know 
historically of anything about women's affairs 
he will not tell what he knows to an inquirer. 
This must be learned from women only, be- 
cause it is for women to tell. 

There are women's societies as well as men's 
societies. And women have certain parts to 



TOWARD THE SUN 187 

perform in rituals, which must not be perform- 
ed by men. Certain things are done by women 
only when the Thunderbird first comes in the 
spring. The priest, a man, has a certain part 
to perform in these matters. Women select the 
seed corn and consecrate it, though a priest, a 
man, sanctifies it before it is planted in the 
spring. In these matters and all others we see 
the idea of the female and the male in all the 
world of life. Woman has consecrated the seed 
corn and man has sanctified it, and so it will 
be prolific. 

In the Indian civilizations there was a just 
distribution of labor between the men and the 
women. But when they come into a new civi- 
lization which is in many ways different from 
their own, there is need of readjustments. Like 
all else in nature, labor was masculine and 
feminine. It would work confusion, as they 
thought, for a man to do feminine labor, and 
vice versa. 

All this seems to have come from the evolu- 
tion of life expressed in community customs. 

The vote or voice of women in tribal matters 
was considered as important as the vote or voice 
of men. A men's council could not make any 
final decisions in ordinary tribal matters till 
a woman's council was heard from. 

Among the Iroquois the women belonging to 
the "chief families" elected a man from among 
the men belonging to the "chief families" to be 



TOWARD THE SUN 



the chief. The men had no vote or voice in 
this election. And the women electors could 
at any time recall the man they had elected, if 
he proved unfit, and elect a new chief. And as 
the 'chief families" were reckoned according 
to the female line, and the women electors could 
at any time recall the chief they had elected, 
it will readily be seen that among the Iroquois 
the prerogative of the women was larger than 
that of the men in civic matters. This system 
of government seems to have been successful 
and generally satisfactory and to have been con- 
ducive to peace among the Iroquois themselves 
as well as peaceful relations with neighboring 
people. The Iroquois were prosperous and were 
making progress till they were destroyed by 
smallpox and other new diseases which came 
from Europe, and were overwhelmed by the 
superior numbers of the whitepeople. 

Among the Siouan peoples the prerogatives 
of men and women were about equal in tribal 
matters, as judged by their theory and practice 
of civic affairs. From information Dr. Beede 
has obtained, it seems quite likely that when, in 
rather modern times, they entered upon a per- 
iod of almost continuous wars, the old tribal 
laws were impaired, and the men exercised the 
larger prerogative in the governmental affairs. 

NOTE 6 — Indian Wisdom Literature 
The racial experience of a people is express- 
ed in proverbs, adages, folklore — wisdom litera- 



TOWARD THE SUN 189 

ture. All races have such literature, which is 
generally handed down from generation to gen- 
eration orally before it is written — if it is finally 
written. Among Indians there is a large amount 
of such literature. Yet anyone acquainted with 
Indians knows how difficult it is to obtain for 
record such important things. One has to hear 
these things casually in their ordinary conver- 
sations and record them unobtrusively. 

Among us Europeans in America there had 
arisen a genuine interest in Indian ethnol- 
ogy, and then came the cataclysm of the 
civil war and its far-reaching accompaniments 
and results, and this interest was suddenly 
checked. Much has been lost. We have a great 
responsibility to collect as much as possible of 
what is available. These things belong to the 
country in which we live. It is our own country 
by adoption, and so these things, being germain 
to our country, are as important to us as simi- 
lar things which had their growth in Europe, 
the country from which our ancestors came. 
Our sentiment must not all go back to Europe. 
It must take firm hold of our own country, for 
it must be truly American. This idealistic at- 
titude toward our country and its historic past 
is a source of happiness and it is necessary to 
a true patriotism. 

It is quite natural that as Europeans our 
thoughts and sentiments should cling to Europe 
and the things of Europe. It is also natural 



190 TOWARD THE SUN 

and proper that we should bring with us from 
the homeland all that is good of the material 
and intellectual legacy of our race, but this 
need not exclude the acquirement of whatever 
good things may pertain to the new land. Chil- 
dren of European countries grow up into citi- 
zenship, learning the stories of their places of 
abode, with whatever there is of human rela- 
tionship connected with each locality. They 
thus acquire a feeling of local pride and attach- 
ment with a correlative feeling of proprietary 
responsibility. But it is otherwise with a people 
by circumstances thrust into a country whose 
past history is unknown to them. They lack a 
real attachment and are ready on slight provo- 
cation to emigrate, and while resident are in- 
different to public duty and ready to shift re- 
sponsibility for civic betterment. 

A British traveler who spent considerable 
time in America a half century ago has some- 
thing to say about this lack of a sense of local 
attachment in this country. He says: "The 
American agriculturists seem to have little local 
attachment. A New Englander or a Virginian, 
though proud and vain of his state, will move 
off to Missouri or Illinois, and leave the home 
of his childhood without any visible effort, or 
symptom of regret, if by so doing he can make 
ten dollars where he before made eight. I have 
seen such repeated instances of this that I can 
not help considering it a national feature." 



TOWARD THE SUN 191 

"Breathes there a man with soul so dead. 
Who never to himself hath said: 
"This is my own, my native land?" 

But Scott here had in mind one who has been 
born in the land in which his ancestors dwelt, 
and who is immersed in the sentiment and story 
pertaining to that land and his ancestral con- 
nection therewith. But if accident of birth 
brings one into the world on shipboard or in a 
foreign land, his affections are not thereby en- 
gaged by the surging water or by the foreign 
shore. To most of the inhabitants of America 
in general and of each of the states in particu- 
lar, the place of their residence is actually or 
essentially foreign to them. They are not in- 
timately acquainted with the land, as, for in- 
stance, the Scottish Highlander is with his rug- 
ged hills, or the Irishman with his green isle. 
If our people had that intimate and atTectionate 
acquaintance with the land of their residence 
our government would be less liable to abuse 
and all our institutions would be more stable. 
There would be less shifting and shirking of re- 
sponsibility. 

Since this country has been Europeanised it 
has been given, in part, a beauty of artificiality, 
a sort of beauty of conformity, while at the 
same time it has been marred and scarred and 
in part made ugly with commonplaceness, and 
has lost the majesty and freedom, and the beau- 
ty and dignity of a distinctive character. 



192 TOWARD THE SUN 

NOTE 7— Thank God for Water 

Indians cannot conceive such a thing as in- 
dividual ownership of land or any other natural 
resources, save in the sense that human beings 
have a free right to use these things according 
to their needs and without waste. 

Salt, paints, timber, minerals in general, 
clays used for cleansing and for pigments and 
many other things as well as land and water 
and air must be free to all people, by Indian 
thought. The idea of an individual or a tribe 
having the exclusive right to such things did not 
occur to Indians. It is repugnant to their con- 
ception of human living. From the Indian view- 
point of man and nature, it is sacreligious for 
one to assume exclusive ownership of natural 
resources. 

The salt springs in the country of any 
Indian tribe were free to all oth- 
er Indian tribes. The pipestone quar- 
ries in Minnesota were also considered the 
property of the people in general, no matter 
what tribe occupied the adjacent lands, though 
when this pipestone was quarried, it was the 
property of the person who had quarried it. By 
the Indian conception of intertribal law, any 
tribe had a right to go peaceably into the coun- 
try of another tribe for obtaining any natural 
resources that were there. Dr. Beede tells me 
that the fundamental reason for neighboring 
tribes regarding the Dakota Indians as arrogant 



TOWARD THE SUN 193 

was their claim that the buffalo belonged ex- 
clusively to them as a race, and that they had 
a right to occupy any land wherever the buffalo 
roamed. I can readily see that such a claim 
would cause friction, for other Indians would 
naturally regard the buffalo as a natural food 
supply free for all peoples. And if the buffalo 
did not appear in large numbers till a compara- 
tively recent date, as Dr. Beede claims, I can 
understand how their appearance with no exact 
precedents regarding their status among the 
natural resources, would cause much confusion 
and friction among Indian tribes. 

Probably Indians in selling land to the first 
Europeans who came to America had no idea 
that they were selling it in such a way as to 
limit the right of their posterity to occupy it 
along with the purchasers to whom they sold it. 
The whiteman's idea of land conveyance was so 
unlike that of the Indian's, that it has given rise 
to confusion and friction between the two races. 
Indians did not question the right of whitepeo- 
ple who had no land to come from across the 
ocean and occupy land with them according to 
their needs. But they did contest the right of 
these whitepeople or their posterity to exclude 
them or their posterity from the land they had 
granted them for use. The Indians regarded a 
purchase price as a gift such as was customary 
when a tribe came to live with another tribe 
on friendly terms. By Indian conception it was 



194 TOWARD THE SUN 

impossible for them to give to anybody title in 
fee to the land which the white Europeans oc- 
cupied, for they did not own this title in fee. 

Many pages might be filled with exact quo- 
tations showing the view of Indians regarding 
land and natural resources, that they belonged 
to the people in general and were for the occu- 
pancy and use of whoever needed them. Not 
only the needs of the present generations, but 
also the needs and rights of posterity precluded 
the individual or tribal ownership of land and 
water and natural resources, save in the limited 
sense of use and occupancy. 

NOTE 8— The Indian Sense of Home 

An Indian's idea of home and happiness de- 
pends upon a certain sense of harmony which 
he feels in and with nature, and in a commun- 
ity. It does not depend primarily upon his being 
a fixed inhabitant of this or that locality in the 
land which his people are occupying. His ideal- 
ism toward "Mother Earth" in general and his 
conception that the use of the earth belonged 
to all the people precludes a certain 
provincialism which sometimes makes a Euro- 
pean have a rather mercenary attitude toward 
that portion of land which he assumes to own. 

The Indian's home instinct often made him 
desire to leave one place and journey to an- 
other place similarly as the home instinct of 
migratory birds inclines them to journey north 



TOWARD THE SUN 195 

or south when, owing to changing seasons, they 
feel that their sense of harmony with life-pro- 
cesses in nature requires a change of location. 
In the place where they are they are uneasy and 
restless because their own life-processes are no 
longer in harmony with the life-processes in 
their environments. But as soon as the journey 
of migration begins then the joy of such birds 
is apparent. The home instinct is again vital 
and their restlessness and uneasiness has ceas- 
ed. Among Indians one may observe moods 
and home-instincts quite similar to those seen 
in migratory birds and other migratory crea- 
tures. 

Whether man is essentially a sedentary 
creature, or is by instinct a migratory creature, 
so that with more easy means of transportation 
he will more frequently change his place of 
abode without losing the true home-instinct, 
quaere. 

NOTE 9— The Mating Dance 

The use of rhythm in connection with vari- 
ous community exercises is not confined to the 
American Indians. People in general experi- 
ence an indefinable happiness in the sense of 
rhythm which is greater than the rhythm of 
movement is accompanied with appropriate 
rhythm of sound. This may be observed in chil- 
dren who love the old fashioned swing in a 
tree where, very likely, they sense the rhythmic 



196 TOWARD THE SUN 

life-processes in nature while definitely con- 
scious only of the swing. And European white- 
people generally, with their type of civilization 
calling for quite strict attention to labor neces- 
sary to livelihood, have not lost the primitive 
sense of joy springing from rhythm accompan- 
ied by music. This is connected with the in- 
stinctive call for play as well as for labor, and 
we see the demand on every side for more play. 

Rhythmic movement with music seems to aid 
and vitalize the spontaneous life-movements in 
an individual or in a community in harmony 
with certain larger life-movements in nature. 

Some types of civilization have had their 
growth with large emphasis laid on the ability 
of man, through the exercise of strong will-pow- 
er, to project himself upon nature, controlling 
as much as possible natural processes for the 
sake of acquisitiveness. This laborious task 
brings a sense of weariness and a call to become 
passive, or spontaneous, while free nature 
makes her own impressions upon a man's phys- 
ical and mental mechanism. And thus one ex- 
periences a resuscitation through the free blend- 
ing of his own life-processes with the life-pro- 
cesses in nature. 

So it comes that many races have used the 
community dance in connection with religious 
emotions and rituals as well as for a pastime. 

It would be interesting and instructive to 
know in what way our own ancestors, not many 



TOWARD THE SUN 197 

centuries ago, used the dance in connection with 
the public celebration of religious rites. No 
doubt our ancestors' agreements, such as mar- 
riage agreements, were celebrated with a com- 
munity religious dance. Unfortunately those 
who saw the customs of our own ancestors a few 
centuries ago, did not write and preserve rec- 
ords as we are now trying to record some of the 
customs of the American aborigines. Probably a 
great wealth of instruction as well as important 
lessons in social affairs has been lost to us 
through the failure to record the cus- 
toms of our own ancestors. A foreign civ- 
lization came and our ancestors yielded to it 
and their own aboriginal customs were lost in 
a great measure. 

Probably our May Pole dance is a vestige of 
a mating dance once sacred to our European 
ancestors. There are other vestiges of customs 
among our ancestors which were supplanted by 
customs not germain to their aboriginal cul- 
ture. 

Among American Indians generally the right 
of choice in marriage seems to have been con- 
ceded to the female. Apparent exceptions to 
the contrary are sporadic rather than typical. 
The abhorrence of rape felt by Indians, more 
than by some other races, is proof of the prin- 
ciple that the female had the right of choice in 
marriage, or at least the right of veto on the 
choice of the male. 



198 TOWARD THE SUN 

Present customs among Indians indicate the 
concept that marriage should come by a free 
choice of both parties to the wedlock, while in 
each the choice is determined by the free life- 
processes of each one's true and better self. 

And dancing and music as practiced by In- 
dians was believed to have mysterious power 
to awaken in people the spontaneous self which 
was in harmony with the deeper and truer life- 
processes in him. All this is in keeping with 
the fixed idea among Indians of the female and 
the male in the living world acting freely and 
without restraint as necessary complementary 
parts of one indivisible whole. 

Among Indians the highest form of public re- 
ligious expression was a pageant or drama 
which included rhythm and music, and the 
dance was frequently but not always a part of 
such religious exercises. 

NOTE 10— She Must Become a Bride 

Much that has been said in notes 5 and 9 ap- 
plies here also. Since the living world was 
made up of the female and the male (Indians 
speak of the female first) which were mutually 
complementary in order that the numberless 
parts and organs in nature might fulfill their 
functions, it followed that the female and the 
male among human beings could not fulfill 
their life-missions as regards a community or 
as regards posterity without becoming mutu- 



TOWARD THE SUN 199 

ally and reciprocally complementary each to 
each in marriage. The whole tribal system of 
community life was based on the assumption 
that each man and woman would marry. A 
man or a woman living in an unmarried state 
seemed to an Indian to create a void in nature 
leading to confusion and unhappiness. 

The use of music in connection with arous- 
ing in woman a normal desire to marry was 
common among Indians. Hence the flute, com- 
monly called "love-flute," used by a young man 
who was in love with a young woman. 

Among Indians, as among other peoples, 
naturally some young women, reflecting on the 
labor and hardship incident to rearing children, 
were disinclined to marry, though this was not 
very common among Indians. And legends 
show that occasionally a woman or a man, ow- 
ing to a peculiar psychic makeup believed to 
be "holy," should not marry, but should serve 
the tribe without marrying. These cases were 
rare. The pathetic legend of the Standing Rock 
(not the later Dakota legend, but the original 
Arikara legend), preserves in a folklore tale 
of great beauty, such an instance as this. 



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